


Pictures in the Looking Glass

by hotchoco195



Category: Angel: the Series, Jossverse
Genre: F/M, Humor, Identity Issues, Illyria is curious, Lindsey and Angel are bros, M/M, Season/Series 05, Vampire Sex, Vampire Slayer(s), but then plot happened, maybe the god king has feels after all, started as PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 03:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchoco195/pseuds/hotchoco195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illyria's getting sick and tired of Wesley always being so morose. Lindsey's sick of dancing around Angel. Gunn's sick of being stuck at the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an alternate season 5 where Illyria rescues Gunn at the beginning of Time Bomb but then never has her power-overload issues. She and the shell work fine together, thank you.

No matter what Wesley had said, she was sure he didn’t want his memories back now that he had them. That night he’d drunk an inappropriate amount of poison, much more than usual. He spent most nights in what she thought of as his daydream chair, drinking until he could sleep. She never slept. In the chair, all the walls he kept constructed around his grief evaporated and disgusting human feeling flooded out into the room – filling every corner, every nook. There was nowhere she could be safe from it. It was killing his plants, but she cooed to them in the song of their kind and reversed some of his neglect.

Tonight she was bored of watching the same emotions play across his face. This was not new. This was not educational. “Why do you still sit so? Does this never-changing reflection help you?”

“Not particularly.”

“You said I should forget the reality that was, yet you dwell on it constantly.”

“Liquor tends to have that effect. The first half of the bottle blacks out bad memories but the second – oh the second shines a big spotlight on them. Under a microscope. They’re under the spotlight in a microscope.”

“You speak nonsense.”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

She stood with her head quirked to the side as always, watching with blue eyes that were and were not hers. “This sorrow is ludicrous. At least when you were trying to kill me you seemed alive. Your anger then gave you strength. Now you are just as much a shell as I.”

“It wasn’t anger,” he sighed, “It was hope. Desperate, totally pointless hope. The last of it, thankfully.”

“I tire of this weeping. You are supposed to be teaching me but all I learn are grotesque human customs of bereavement and names of whisky.”

“Let me remind you that my tutelage can be withdrawn as easily as I gave it.”

“You will not abandon me.”

He sank further into the chair, as if his insides were only stuffing and they belonged together. “It is too dangerous to have you roaming around out there alone.”

“Wrong. It is because of the shell.”

She spread her thumb and forefinger, drawing out a spark into a thin, flickering blue line. A soft, broken voice came from her dark lips.

“Wes..ley?”

“Stop it.”

“Why...can’t I...stay?”

“I said stop it!”

His mostly empty bottle froze as she waved a hand before her, its journey through the air snail-like as she stepped out of the way. She undid the time twist and it shattered against the wall. Wesley choked back tears of rage but still cowered in the safety of his chair.

“You are a drunken fool. I am Illyria, of the Old Ones and originals. These petty tantrums are no more than an annoying itch I could scratch out in an instant.”

“You seem awfully upset for an uncaring being.” He almost laughed.

“Only by your constant attempts at betrayal!”

“And what do you call baiting me with those memories? We had an arrangement. You would not pretend to be anything but god king Illyria, and I would be your reluctant Qwa’ha Xahn.”

“You do not show the appropriate respect for that title.”

“Terribly sorry. Get out.”

“I go when it pleases me!”

“Well it would be just wonderful if you would go somewhere else for a few hours, Your Holiness.” He said with dripping sarcasm.

She considered him for a moment, then stood up straighter. “Very well. But I go to escape the stench of your despair.”

With another wave she created a portal and stepped through, leaving him alone again, teetering on the brink of sleep.

*****

Spike didn’t shriek when Illyria appeared in his living room – but it was a close thing.

“Jesus Bluebird, Wesley not got around to teachin’ you the concept of knocking?”

“Wesley is too lugubrious to teach me anything tonight. You must entertain me.”

“Oh, must I? I thought it was up to me, given that it’s after hours and all.”

He waved a hand to indicate the blaring TV and his slouched pose. She turned slowly on the spot, examining his apartment with that same curious Fred look that twisted his guts up. But he knew Fred was undeniably gone for good. It was Illyria’s curious look now.

“I do not understand Wesley’s attachment to this form. It is not Winifred. Her outsides were not all he wanted from her, yet he sees only the outside now.”

Spike could tell she was actually confused. He patted the couch next to him, and reluctantly she perched on the edge.

“You’re right that he loved more than her face, but it’s hard for him, pet. He looks at you and sees her and he just wants her back, and he wants to forget her, and all he can have is the her you tainted. Wes knows her soul is gone but it doesn’t mean he’s okay watching something else use her smile, and her eyes, and her voice.”

“But I do not use those things.”

“But that only makes it more obvious you’re not her and she’s not you. It’s tricky to explain, Blue.” He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning slightly.

“You speak knowledgably vampire. You have experience with this love?”

The blond smiled ruefully. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Odd, for a demon. Another example of human weakness. It pollutes you, makes you more like them.”

He raised his brow. “S’not so bad being in love. Maybe you should try it some time.”

She seemed flustered, eyes wide and blank as she rounded on him. “Love? Love is nothing. It gets in the way. It distracts. It causes pain.”

“Yeah but there’s other stuff too, good stuff, makes it all worthwhile.”

“You talk of desire?”

“I was talkin’ about companionship and joy and beauty and laughter, actually – but the sex ain’t bad either. Surely we can agree on that.”

“Another distraction.”

“But you have had it, yeah? God King of the Primordium, must have had them piling up at your feet.” He smirked.

“I was worshipped. Scores offered themselves to me,” she gave the hint of a smile, “I indulged on occasion. To celebrate my victories.”

Spike laughed. “See? God, king or whatever, you’re still a demon and demons are passionate creatures.”

“Even if I still wished to engage in that kind of behaviour, I wouldn’t know what to do with this body. It is not so graceful or supple as mine was; not so strong or...familiar.”

“You could always ask Wesley to show you some videos.” Spike teased.

“He would refuse. He does not consider sex to be part of our lessons.”

“You’ve discussed it?” Spike frowned.

“No, but it is plain he worries what I will do with the shell. What I will do to it. You do not have such concerns. You beat me.”

“You did most of the beating, love.”

“But you were not afraid to hurt the shell.”

“Yeah well like I keep saying, you’re not Fred.”

“Do you hit me because you think I deserve it?”

“Nah, not really. I just like a bit of violence, you know? And I’m supposed to be testing your capabilities.”

“Perhaps you should test more of them.”

She didn’t move visibly, no wave or click of her fingers, but Illyria was suddenly very naked on his couch. A little put off by the blue patterns that continued over the rest of her, he managed to keep a mostly straight face.

“Look, love, no offence-”

“But you said I am not the shell. It does not matter to her what I do with it now. And I wish to explore these impulses, though I doubt they could compare to the ecstasy I felt in my own form.”

“Well that’s a fine idea in theory, but I just wouldn’t feel right doing that to Wes. The others wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you not find this body attractive?” she glanced down at herself as if checking for some fatal flaw.

He sighed and rubbed his neck. “S’nothing like that, it’s just – what if you smashed me pelvis or somethin’? How would I explain that to Peaches?”

“I could be careful. You shall help me and we will not tell them. I am curious about all things, and though it disgusts me I will have you, vampire.”

“Hey, you’re not so far from a vamp as you like to think. You walk around in the body you killed, same as us. If I say yes you have to promise to lay off my species.”

“Very well. Undress now.”

He wasn’t sure why, but he knew he was going to agree. He hadn’t necessarily been attracted to that body while it was still Fred, and he definitely had never thought of Illyria and sex in the same sentence before now. But she wanted to know about the world, and if he didn’t teach her, god knows who she’d go and accidentally break trying to learn. As much as his soul told him this was probably not very kosher, there were worse possibilities, so he took off his black tee and rolled his eyes.

“How ‘bout we let me take the lead, yeah?”

He pushed himself closer to where she sat stiffly and shifted so he had one leg bent and the other hanging off the couch, her knees between his. Ignoring her nakedness for now, he slid one pale hand along her jaw and then her neck, resting it on her shoulder as he leant in to kiss her. He tickled her lips with his own, feeling her resistant at first but then pushing back against him. He slid his tongue along her lips, prodding until they parted and let him in through the slight gap. She tasted a little like her alien scent, a confusion caused by her odd diet. Her mouth was a shade warmer than a human’s, like all that power trapped in one small shell was overheating it. She flicked her tongue against his very softly and he encouraged her, drawing her back into his mouth. She ran the tip over every crevice of his teeth, every curve of slippery flesh, the hard tissue of his palate and the squelch of his cheeks. He just let her, running one hand over her hair soothingly. When she stopped poking around and settled into a languorous brush of tongues, he pulled back.

“That was gentle. This is rough.”

He clenched both hands in her hair and tugged, their lips crashing together hard enough to bruise. He pressed his mouth to hers firmly, nipping her lower lip almost to the point of breaking skin. Her mouth fell open and he shot in, tongue scraping the back of her teeth as he twisted it around hers. She fought back, hands flying to his chest almost involuntarily to stroke the hard muscle. Spike delved even deeper into the kiss and then abruptly broke it, dragging his lips down her neck to rest over her jugular. He sucked hard, human teeth pressing into the flesh. She wriggled against him with a gasp. He immediately stopped, a shocked smile on his face as he looked up at her.

She looked almost embarrassed. “I like rough.”

“Thought you might.”

“Show me more of this, Spike.”

He pulled her into his lap and attacked her throat again, scratching one side with his nails as he licked and nibbled the other. She leant into his touch, the hand curled around her tiny waist and the one wrapping around her collarbone. He dragged his teeth down her chest, pulling at one nipple with his lips and then his fingers. Illyria made another small gasp as her hands twisted his hair out of its usual slick rows. He broke away and ripped off his jeans before pushing her back on the couch and kneeling between her legs. He dragged his nails down her hips teasingly.

“So tell me pet, exactly how breakable are you in this form?”

“You could not even bruise me – but I give you permission to try.”

He grinned and lifted her by the waist, plunging into her with one smooth motion. He gave her maybe half a second to get used to the sensation before he was sawing in and out of her, her arms slung around his neck as she held on tight. She forced his mouth open and kissed him savagely as his thighs slapped against hers. Spike’s fingers gripped her hips brutally – she could feel the calluses on each individual fingertip, the dips and circles of his fingerprints. She wrapped her legs around him and pushed herself even closer, so that her chest flattened against his as she dug sharp nails into his neck. He was so cool against her ever-hotter skin, and very, very hard – all sharp angles and firm muscle. The shell was responding to Spike’s powerful thrusts in ways she was not used to. The muscles of her legs and stomach fluttered and every time their pelvises met, there was an enormous rush of pleasure from some spot just above where they were joined. The only thought she could form about his cock and his tongue was ‘ _Deeper’_. She could feel something growing and spreading down her spine, and the shell’s memories told her what came next.

Spike knew the blue creature squeezing the unlife out of him was about to pop. She was moaning in a constant stream now, her fingers curled around his upper arms as he drove himself into her faster and harder with each thrust. Their lips never stopped touching, fighting for dominance. He dropped into game face and headed for her shoulder, but felt her head shake.

“I would not do that, vampire. You may not like the consequences.”

“You gonna hold out on me now, love? Thought you were enjoying the rough stuff.”

“It is not the shell’s blood anymore.”

He was still considering what she meant when Illyria cried out and twitched beneath him. Her arms locked them together with more strength than he could ever fight and her inner walls closed around him, and it was too late. He came with a shudder as he sank his teeth in. The first drops on his tongue were like cheap vodka – full of bite but no flavour. But as he drank it swelled into something else, something a bit plastic, a little strawberry, and a rich golden syrup that hummed its way into even his smallest veins. Every cell of his dead body fizzed with one big itch and he let go with a howl, pushing back against Illyria’s loosened grip to fall on his back.

“What – what – bloody hell!” he attempted as he spasmed.

The blue demon’s bite had already healed, and she shook her head. “I warned you, Spike. My blood is too powerful for a lesser demon. If you could move, you might experience strength and speed beyond your capabilities, and hear the song of the green and the whirl of other worlds. But instead you will lie here til dawn and feel only joy and delusion.”

“I think I see a leprechaun. They’re not real.”

“I will leave you then. But I thank you for your services. You have taught me much about human pleasures.”

She waved and was maroon-suited again, and with another wave created a new portal. She slipped through, leaving Spike to a few hours of the best hallucinations he’d ever had – and he’d been at Woodstock.


	2. The Next Question is, Who in the World am I?

Lindsey sat in the ‘interrogation’ chair in Angel’s office, legs crossed with one foot bobbing away. He was a picture of contentment as the dark vampire circled him slowly in his best _Jaws_ impression. Lindsey smirked – all they needed now was ominous music.

“Tell me about this apocalypse. What’re we lookin’ at – rain of fire, permanent night, giant beasties? Cos been there, done that. If they’ve got something more impressive this time, I need the details Lindsey.”

“S’why you brought me back isn’t it? Left your boy in hell so you could pump me for... information.” He drawled.

“And now I’m thinking that was a waste of time. Start talking.”

Lindsey considered the vampire for a moment. He was leaning back against his desk in his sensible black suit, arms crossed and glare dark. A little wider than the old days when his agency was scraping by, a little more stress in his frown than just the old guilt and melancholy. But he was still the angelic young man he’d been in Galway all those years ago and Lindsey decided to play along, see how much he could get for his trouble.

“You heard of the Circle of the Black Thorn?”

“A little. It’s a club for demons.”

Lindsey was surprised, but he controlled it. “Not exactly. A very exclusive and _secret_ society, with the usual goals – money, power, influence, fresh kills. Well they’re trying for something bigger this time.”

Angel leant forward, their rivalry forgotten. “Ending the world. Bit of a waste after all their hard work.”

“They’ve exhausted their capacity for growth. Now they want to pull an Acathla, rid the world of humanity or put them in their place. But unlike your better half, they’re not sloppy planners. They can get it done, and soon.”

“But how? What specifically are they planning?”

“That I’m not too sure about,” Lindsey shrugged as Angel got up and started pacing, “I never got tapped.”

“Not for lack of trying, I’m sure.” The taller man scoffed.

Lindsey just grinned. “Leopards can’t change their spots I guess. Though you surprised me, taking the offer for this place.”

Angel’s face was pained for a second. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re too smart to have fallen for their spiel, so there’s gotta be something more. Something extra tempting?”

“Anything else you know about the Circle? Where they’re based?”

“Wasn’t money – you were never a fan of profits. The cars are great, but I doubt you’re _that_ shallow. Feeling the sun on your face every day? You had that chance and turned it down – twice. Did they get rid of the happiness clause? Open the door for anonymous sex and – dare I say – a certain perky blonde?”

“No. Can we get back to the reason I’m not pounding on you right now?”

 _Or pounding in me_. “Did they promise they could bring Cordelia back?”

For a second Lindsey thought he’d gone too far. The vampire’s frustrated grimace had fallen into fury, his black eyes an almost physical blow when they met the lawyer’s. He was expecting a mouthful of fist when Angel turned and headed for his private lift.

“Well if you don’t have anything useful to say, I’ll have them escort you back to your room.”

Lindsey panicked. After all those months of plotting against Angel, after endless days of basement torture, here he was in the vampire’s office – and it was over already?

“Angel...wait.”

*****

Illyria wandered the lobby listening to the plants recount conversations they’d overheard. Wesley was in his office again, which mean he was more sober but less sane. Spike had not yet arrived to continue their sparring. She hoped he was not still under the effects of her blood, because long trips could melt a vampire’s brain.

Illyria was never bored, even when they left her unattended.  There was always something new to learn, though it disgusted her how interested she was in human lives and customs. Her latest fascination was sex – she knew there was much more to it than her brief time with Spike. But she was short on volunteer tutors, especially in this form. The god king almost sighed. _What shall I do?_ she asked the ferns by the lift.

 _The shell_ , they whispered, _Use the shell_.

She’d considered it, of course. Sneak out of Wesley’s House of Misery and find men (or women) in the shell’s form. But she wasn’t 100% sure where to find humans who were looking for sex. She knew enough to realise she couldn’t just approach people in the street. And no one at the Wolf, Ram and Hart office would touch the shell – they would tell Angel or Wesley that she was misbehaving. _Unless_...

She meandered towards Gunn’s office, knowing no one paid much attention to her wandering. The door was ajar and she could see him asleep at his desk, head balanced on a stack of manila folders. Recent surgery and having your heart ripped out every day were not a good combination. Illyria slipped inside and closed the door softly. With a small shudder, her hair curled itself; her skin turned a grotesque pink and her red armour was replaced with a simple, frilly blue sundress she’d pulled from the shell’s memories. She crept up to the desk and sat on the edge, stroking Gunn’s head and neck very gently.

“Hey sleepy – time to get goin’.”

Gunn stirred a little, turning his face towards her voice.

“Come on Charles. Gotta wake up now.”

He frowned a little but his eyes stayed stubbornly shut.

“Come on dude, you gonna make me wait all day?”

“Fred?”

“I know, I know, I can’t say dude.”

Gunn looked up at her groggily.

“Is that really you?”

“Course not silly. You’re dreamin’. I’m still as dead as ever.”

Her words killed the light in his gaze and he sunk back down in his chair.

“I’m so sorry Fred. It’s so easy to say when I dream about you. I think it every time I see Wes, every time we have a meeting and you’re not there – but just once I wish I had the chance to say it to your face.”

“You can see my face now.” She ran her fingers over his cheek but he didn’t stop frowning.

“It’s not the same.” He whispered.

“Say it anyway.”

“I’m sorry for what I did. You know I never ever wanted to hurt you. If I could take it back – if I could take your place...”

“Shhh. I know.”

She leant down and pulled his face towards her, tilting until their lips met. He was hesitant for a second then pulled away.

“I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“But you want it. And no one else around here is rushing to give it.”

He looked down and she climbed off the desk and into his lap.

“Charles, you messed up. That’s what people do. Let me forgive you.”

She kissed him again and this time he didn’t object, wrapping his hands around her waist as her lips parted slightly over his. He reached out gently, running his tongue along the edges of her mouth before venturing inside. He was tender, drawing the kiss out as Spike had but for very different reasons. She pushed the kiss further, moving her lips harder against his but he refused to go past a hand curled in her hair. She pushed her chest against his and got no response; slid a hand down his side and saw no flicker of excitement.

Illyria knew then that she could never tempt this one, even in the shell’s form, even in a dream. He was shackled by his guilt. He would not touch her, even if she begged, and if she pushed too hard he would see through the deception. She reached up his neck and pushed hard on a pressure point by his skull. Gunn was instantly limp against her. She stood and carefully laid his head back on the desk. With some internal click, her blue features slid back into place and she swept out of the room unsatisfied.

*****

Angel stopped, glancing back at Lindsey.

“Yeah? I am officially out of patience with you, so spit it out.”

The lawyer looked almost contrite. “I wanted to apologise.”

Angel couldn’t help it; his jaw dropped. “I’m sorry?”

“That’s what _I’m_ trying to say. You tried to help me before, when I was workin’ here. Tried to make me see just who I was aiding and abetting. I was mixed up at the time, but eventually it got through and I managed to get away. After that things got really weird, with half of me wanting to be back in that world and the other half telling me to keep running. I ended up back here after all that time, wanting to make you hurt, and for what? Some long ago grudge?”

“I always thought it was pretty stupid, but I guess I expected that from you.”

“Truth is, I did hate you, but it wasn’t because you had Darla, and it wasn’t some good vs. evil thing. It might have been a little about the chopping my hand off-”

“Yeah. Kind of a dick move, in retrospect.” Angel said, but he still smirked gleefully.

“But mostly it was because...well...you never wanted me.”

Angel looked taken aback for a second. “That’s not true.”

“Oh sure, you wanted me to join your side, or more specifically to not pick Wolfram and Hart. But even if you liked me the littlest bit, you never wanted me.”

Angel strode back towards Lindsey carefully, slowly, trying to read the sad but hard expression on his face.

“I’m not really sure I get it Lindsey. Are you upset I never offered you a place on my team? Honestly I just didn’t think you’d want it. Why do you care so much what I think?”

“I never did give you much credit for brains.” He chuckled.

Angel was right in his face now, standing so close their legs almost touched, but Lindsey refused to look up at him. Angel sighed and placed a hand under his chin, jerking it up.

“I’m not as stupid as Spike says. I just don’t speak cryptic. You’re gonna have to translate.”

“Forget it.”

The other man’s voice was rough, throaty, the way Angel liked it best. It was the closest Lindsey ever came to showing what lay behind that calm facade. He looked into the lawyer’s eyes and wondered. They were so clichéd – steely gaze, worries tucked into the corners like they were trying to hide. His full lips had fallen slightly open, and Angel felt for the hundredth time an insatiable urge to kiss them until they were bruised deep purple. He’d always had a bit of a thing for Lindsey – the cocky arrogance, the lithe muscular body, they reminded him of Spike in the old days. Ever since that night at Caritas, he’d been wishing he could hear that voice again. So he said something neither of them expected.

“I always wanted you, Lindsey. I just couldn’t have you.”

Lindsey looked up at him with utter confusion and opened his mouth but Angel pulled him up by the tops of his arms and kissed him. Lindsey was stunned still and silent for a moment, but Angel’s reassuring hands on his back sparked him into action and soon they were pressing their lips against each other hard, hands roaming over clothed torsos as the vampire crushed the smaller man to his form. Lindsey pulled back and looked at him.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Hey, you started it. I figured we were clearing the air.”

Lindsey looked almost disappointed, like he’d expected something more in the way of an explanation. Angel sighed.

“I’m not an idiot. You were into me from the start – I could see it, and course I could smell it every time you saw me. But you were playing for the other team back then, and I had my own issues to deal with. Important responsibilities. There was no way I could have trusted you. I still can’t.”

“Did you ever trust Darla?”

“Not in over two hundred years. I only trusted that I knew what she would do next.”

He kissed Lindsey again, a firm battle of lips and melding of hips, then broke away and headed for his lift.

“Where you goin’? I thought we were clearing the air.”

“Trust, Lindsey. Can’t live without it again.”

The silver doors closed on him and Lindsey was left to splutter uselessly. He sank back into the chair, holding his fingers to the lips that had finally touched ones he’d been looking for in every kiss since he’d met the vampire. With a groan he stalked out of the office, muttering about contrary assholes all the way back to his room.


	3. What is the Use of a Book Without Pictures or Conversation?

Gunn jumped at the knock on his open door.

“I wasn’t asleep!”

“You could have fooled me puddin’,” Lorne smirked, “Hate to disturb your nap but we have a very important visitor.”

The lawyer got up and hurried out from behind his desk. “What are we talking about here, Fell Brethren? The Archduke?”

Lorne pointed out into the reception, where a small crowd had gathered around a curvy brunette in well worn jeans and a red tee that pulled tight across her chest.

“Faith!”

Gunn took off across the lobby, Lorne forgotten as he reached out a hand and clasped the Slayer’s forearm.

“Charlie boy. Did you miss me, or were you too busying saving the world?”

“Hey, it would have been more fun with you around to help.”

“You look good in a suit though, I gotta say.”

“Oi! Where’s my compliment? Went to all that trouble to get my body back and no one cares.”

Faith chuckled. “Sorry Spike. Guess I still haven’t really processed you being alive yet.”

Angel sighed. “Join the club.”

The blonde vampire elbowed him in the ribs and Faith just laughed.

“So what took you so long to come back and visit?” Gunn nudged her.

“Oh you know, end of the world, blockin’ up the Hellmouth, that old jazz. Then we all kinda drifted off for a while. Went down to Mexico, just hung out in the sun. I’m still a fugitive, remember?”

Angel frowned slightly, but it was almost impossible to tell with his permanent brood. “Harmony, remind me to make some calls about that. Trust me Faith, with the resources we have here, you can have a clean slate in half an hour.”

“Wow, impressive. Look at the Big Cheese workin’ his mojo.”

The Big Cheese bit back a smile and glanced at his watch. “Oh, sorry, I got this meeting I have to take. But we’ll talk later!”

As Angel hurried back to his office, Lorne donned his hat and gave her a little bow.

“I have to run too chicken, but stop by and whistle me a tune some time.”

Faith looked around at all the people in suits trudging the halls and shuddered.

“Man, I don’t know how you guys do it. I’d go insane working here, cooped up all day. I get so antsy if I’m not hittin’ things.”

“Prison must have been a blast then.” Spike said.

“Hey, if you want some excitement, maybe you wanna patrol with me tonight?” Gunn asked, “I need to get back in there and work the kinks out of my muscles.”

Faith nodded. “Sounds good. How ‘bout you keep me entertained til then Spike? I heard something about a training room?”

Gunn headed back to his office as Spike led Faith to the elevators, going on about multiple opponents and jujitsu demons. Give him a homemade axe and a quiet street any day.

*****

Wesley could hear the clutter of familiar voices outside his office, loud and cheery – everyone was always cheerful out there. Had to be, had to keep things in one piece. Maybe that was why he preferred it in here. He was sifting through his books as usual, turning page after page in search of some final paragraph that would sum it all up – give him the reason Illyria had burnt his beloved from the inside out, some explanation to soothe him. But it was so hard to concentrate when there was a new old voice rising above the others...

He crossed his floor stealthily, as if they could see through his blinds. But when he got to the window and peeped through no one was even looking in his direction. The whole gang was out there – Spike, Angel, Lorne and Gunn, all huddled around her. The dark curls were as fear-inducing as ever, but he stamped down on the panic as his Slayer broke into a throaty chuckle.

Wesley retreated, putting as much space between the door and himself as possible. So Faith had survived Sunnydale, well he’d known that. It was just buried under everything else that weighed on his brain. And after the Slayers and the new Council had made it so clear they had no interest in associating with the ‘enemy’, he’d just expected she wouldn’t show up again. He felt the panic rising. He couldn’t pretend with Faith. The others saw him every day, knew what he’d been through, didn’t want to talk about it anymore than he did – but Faith had seen him before. She knew the blundering, brainwashed young Watcher, she knew how far he’d come. She’d see through his crap and unlike the others she wouldn’t be afraid to call him on it. She’d push and push until his calm cracked and shattered worse than his bones had under her torture. He listened closer as the voices died down and the lobby was silent again. With a quick peek through the blinds to check they were really gone, he headed straight for the elevators and away from an ugly conversation.

Wesley’s favourite place to hide was the bar on level two. The ground floor was the big networking place – couple of restaurants ranging from average to Donald Trump expensive, a disgustingly yuppy cocktail bar, the cafeteria. The bar on the second floor was much more suitable. It was very grey, lots of metal and sleek lines with rows of dark, secluded booths for hiding from the work they did. He ordered a bottle of decent scotch and headed for ‘his’ corner, hoping to blend into the walls until it was time to go home or there was some emergency upstairs. Unfortunately his usual place was already occupied.

“Lindsey. I had no idea we were letting you walk around without an escort these days.”

“Oh they’re around, making sure I don’t leave the building or talk to anyone I shouldn’t. I’m avoiding ex-colleagues anyway, so no cause for concern.”

“This place is very good for that.” Wesley said a little wistfully.

“Sorry, did I steal your hideout? I can share you know.”

Wesley would never have considered it, but he just wanted to sit down and have a few drinks and pretend he was somewhere else. So avoiding yet another argument, he sat down opposite the Southerner and poured himself a glass.

“Serious stuff you got there.”

Wesley eyed the half-empty bottle of vodka next to Lindsey’s glass.

“Looks like I’m not the only one.”

“So what are you avoiding?”

Wesley shook his head. “A surprise visitor. I’d rather not get into messy subjects with her.”

Lindsey smiled wryly. “I know the feeling.”

“Why are you down here?”

“Same reason really. I’m avoiding your boss.”

Wesley raised a brow and finished his glass, pouring another. “I thought that was mutual.”

“It’s complicated. English, you ever hate someone and want them at the same time?”

There was a lot he could read into that sentence – Lindsey must have been pretty drunk, and was probably going to bring up things Wesley would rather not know about Eve. But he knew what it was like to grapple with a demanding woman, so he smiled.

“Yes, actually.”

“How’d it end?”

“I decapitated her corpse.”

Lindsey laughed just a little too loudly for a second. “Sorry, that’s just...perfect.”

“It wasn’t much of a relationship. I was lonely, cut off. She taunted me. The sex was all the better because it was a mistake. And then just when things were heading somewhere deeper, she died.”

“Seems to happen to you a lot.”

Wesley shrugged indifferently. “I suppose.”

“But it worked, for a while? You didn’t trust each other but it didn’t matter?”

“I still didn’t trust her in the end. But yes, I had feelings for Lilah.”

Lindsey choked on his mouthful. “Lilah?! Wow. Never picked her for your type, Wes.”

The other man smiled. “I was a very different man then.”

“Lilah’s dead? I’m almost sorry to hear it. We had a thing once. Got drunk at the office Halloween party. She was an okay gal.” He smiled almost fondly.

Wesley flattened any possible lift in the mood with another hard question. “So what’s the matter Lindsey, Eve just not as alluring without her link to the Senior Partners?”

“I can’t believe she fell for my act. She knew all about my plans, how I wanted to get to Angel, how I was gonna destroy Wolfram and Hart and she still thought it was true love.” Lindsey scoffed. He didn’t look even the least bit ashamed or sorry, and Wesley didn’t exactly blame him. Eve was no friend of theirs.

“So are you down here avoiding her too?”

“Nah, she’s been spending most of her time in bed moping about her now inevitable death. I told her that was just the rules, the same ones everyone else plays, but she’s pouting like a scolded child.”

Wesley could feel the scotch sitting warm in his stomach, the edges of the conversation slightly rounded in his mind. He would need a lot more than that to get properly drunk, but for now the haze blotted out all thoughts of Faith and Fred and blue god kings, and he waded into this odd and unexpected heart-to-heart eagerly.

“So why exactly are you avoiding Angel? Afraid he’ll want to punish you some more for your various misdeeds, or just uncomfortable with him in charge of your old sandbox?”

“Neither.” Lindsey fidgeted, downing the dregs of his glass quickly before pouring yet another.

“Well I’m not going anywhere. You wanted some company, here I am.”

The Oklahoma boy pushed his hair back off his brow with a sigh. “Suppose I did invite you to sit down. Alright, the Brooder and I, we had this meeting about the apocalypse that turned into rehashing our whole history. You know, explaining why I never really liked him, how things could have been, all that chick stuff.”

“And now you can’t face a friendlier Angel?”

“Pretty much. I mean, I should be up there just hanging around and driving him crazy, reminding him of all his fuck-ups in the last few years. But I’m not sure I could do it. I don’t think I could handle his fucking anguish, you know? It would be too hard on both of us.”

And quite unwelcome, Illyria popped back into Wesley’s mind despite all the scotch he’d emptied out so far. She _did_ hang around and make him just a little more insane than usual, but she couldn’t help it. Like Lindsey she was lost. She needed him, after a lifetime of not needing anything but victory and conquest. An Old One relied on him, insignificant Wesley, a not very capable human and a loathsome guide. He didn’t feel bad about the pain his guilt might cause her – he still couldn’t redirect _all_ of the blame for Fred’s death. But Illyria had helped them recently and maybe Lindsey had a point. Maybe he could try being a little more...jovial.

He finished another glass and sighed. “I think I know what you mean.”

*****

Gunn was rearranging the piles of reports on his desk when she appeared in the doorway.

“Ready for that patrol?”

“Hell yeah. Let me grab my kit.”

Once he’d retrieved the small bag of axes and blades he kept in the cupboard (just in case), they headed out into the deserted reception and took an equally empty elevator ride down to the street. Gunn let Faith take point, following her as they strode out towards the less corporate parts of town silently. The slayer seemed bothered by something; there was this little wrinkle between her brows that wouldn’t go away. He wasn’t going to bring it up though – he was through with curiosity these days.

Just when he thought she was never going to speak, she frowned even harder. “Things are really different around here.”

He nodded slowly. “It hasn’t been good, Faith.”

“I gotta say I’m not a big fan of my role model working for the dark side again. Only just got him all un-evilled.”

“Life got crazy after you left.”

“I noticed. Lot less helping the helpless goin’ on.”

“Well Angel tried when we first took over, but it turned into a circus. And then Spike was fillin’ in for a while but since Fred...”

“Yeah. Sorry to hear, man. She was sweet.”

They were quiet for all of two seconds before the question she’d obviously been dying to ask shot out.

“Is it true they’re just letting the thing walk around in her skin?”

Gunn bristled slightly, but not at Faith – more at the miserable truth. “We couldn’t really do anything about it if we wanted to. Illyria’s pretty much a god.”

“We’ve fought worse. Giant Beast things and friends gone bad, remember?”

He rubbed his head and sighed. “I don’t think Wes could take it. He knows we can’t get Fred back, but if she was gone completely? I don’t know what he’d do if he had nothing left. He needs her around and he hates it.”

“Guess that makes warped, twisted sense – man, he is just not the same Wesley. I should be used to it now but it still surprises me.”

“It’s hard for him. No one really interferes with his lessons or training or whatever he’s doing with Blue Thunder. Angel can’t afford to lose another team member so he just lets Wes keep pretending things are fine. Lorne’s been mostly AWOL, Spike’s been Illyria-sitting and I...well we don’t really talk these days.”

“I like that though. Not having to talk. I was never much of a talker, not about important stuff, you know? Wood always said I should open up more.”

“Wood?”

“This guy from Sunnydale. After the big fight he travelled around with me. You remind me of him actually – the whole vigilante, fighting evil for the little people and not the big sacred duty cause thing.”

“Where is he now?”

She was quiet for about half a block, then shrugged. “He wanted to go to Cleveland. B and Giles and the others were all rounding up Slayers for training, new Watchers, redesigning the Council and shit. Wood wanted to go to the Hellmouth in Cleveland and just patrol. He figured they could handle the paperwork and we’d just do what we always had.”

“Sounds like your kinda adventure, girl. What happened?”

“It was fine for a while, and then he started talking about his mom a lot. She was a Slayer, and he was all convinced that since she managed to have kids it would be totally possible for me to have them – especially with all the new Slayers. And when I pointed out that one bad night was all it took to leave some kid without a mother he just brushed it off and said that wouldn’t happen.”

“You ever want kids?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Couple of little guys runnin’ around, callin’ me Ma. It’d be nice with the right guy. But I just couldn’t do it while there’s still a good slay in me. I couldn’t leave them at home every night and wonder if I was gonna make it back in the morning. I don’t think you can ever stop being a Slayer.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve got all this fancy stuff Wolfram and Hart put in my head and none of it outweighs the smartass that always had vamp dust on his shirt and a bunch of mouths to feed.”

“So Wood and I decided we wanted different things and that wasn’t gonna change, and here I am.”

“Well I’m glad. It’s good to have someone to talk to.”

“You always struck me as more of a doer.” Faith winked.

“Like I said,” he shrugged, “Things got crazy.”


	4. It’s No Use Going Back To Yesterday; I Was a Different Person Then

Gunn copped a mouthful of vamp dust and doubled over, coughing and gasping in a way that didn’t make him feel old or out of practice _at all_.

“Hey, you okay big guy?”

He nodded at the unusually perky Slayer. Her dark curls were plastered to her sweat-slicked forehead. She had a thin coat of dust on both shoulders, and a smile from ear to ear. The alley around them was thick with the dirty grey ash of their fallen adversaries.

“You know you’re supposed to keep your mouth closed, right?”

“Thanks for the tip.” He straightened up.

“Not bad.” Faith nudged him, admiring their handiwork.

“You were amazing. When that guy came up behind you? And that thing you did with the staff?”

“Hey, Slayer skills and years of training. I was more impressed you managed to keep up.” She teased as they headed back out onto the street.

Gunn didn’t answer. He knew it had been a while since he’d done any regular patrolling, but in the few nights he’d gone out with Faith he’d already improved. He was kinda proud of their efforts tonight – he felt like he was holding his own now. _Might have to book some time in the training room though if I ever wanna show her up_.

“So, you wanna try sweeping some blocks further south?” the brunette asked.

He shrugged. “It’s been pretty quiet. Group as large as we just took out? I doubt there’ll be anything else decent tonight.”

The Slayer was swinging her arms, tossing a stake idly and catching it again as they walked the deserted streets.

“Well I’m not ready for bed. That fight got me all kinds of wired.”

“How about a drink then?”

She smiled. “You know a good place?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

*****

“Illyria! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Spike was called away on business for Angel. I came to find you. You are working very late tonight.”

Wesley sighed, dumping his armful of books onto his already-overflowing desk. Illyria watched him with those expressionless blue eyes, head tilted, and he wondered for the millionth time if he was just a subject for her to study.

“I’m working on the same thing as Spike, actually. Clearing up some details for one of Angel’s meetings tomorrow.”

He hesitated, hovering between his chair and the god king who looked so much like Fred – _Fred’s gone. Illyria is here now_. He thought back to his odd conversation with Lindsey and sighed internally.

“Would you like to help?”

“Help?” she moved closer to the desk.

“Yes. Even if you’re behind on some of the current demon politics, I’m certain you’ll have no trouble catching up.”

Illyria scoffed. “Why should I trouble myself with your petty human concerns?”

“I rather thought that was your life now.” Wesley said quietly.

Illyria was silent and he plucked up the courage to continue.

“You brought Gunn back. You went with me to face Angel when we found out about the memory spell. I know it must pain you, but I think you _do_ care what happens, even if it’s only a little.”

“You dare!” she said coldly, blue eyes flashing, “If you all died tomorrow I would not mourn your passing any more than a dog misses the flea that bit him!”

Wes raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. Just thought you might be interested in some of the texts I’m using.”

He settled in to his reading and seemingly ignored her. As he turned the ancient pages carefully he noticed she was fidgeting in an almost human way, pointedly not looking at him. He held his tongue.

“Very well, Wesley. I will solve your silly problems but only so you may then teach me something of human emotions.”

He grinned to himself and moved the book between them.

*****

Angel walked down the hall distractedly. He couldn’t stop thinking about the vision Cordy had shown him, the one he hadn’t told anyone about, the one that told him what he should be doing. _But not how! Goddamn the PTB and their vague instructions._ The only person that could help him now was Lindsey, and wasn’t that a laugh? The guy who tried to ruin his life and then kissed him back, another complication he really didn’t need. He wouldn’t deny he’d always wanted Lindsey – still did – but now was so not the time. So it was kinda inconvenient that he ran right into the smaller man.

“Wow! I know you can brood with the best of them, but I’m impressed.”

Angel helped the ex-lawyer up without even thinking about it. “Lindsey? What are you doing here?”

“My room’s down the hall, remember?”

“Right! Right, yeah. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

Lindsey smirked. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?”

He nodded down to where Angel’s hand was still grasping his arm. The vampire dropped it like a cross and shook his head to clear it.

“Bit late to be roaming.”

“I wasn’t ready for bed.”

 _Oh yeah, that was a come on_. Angel ignored the leer. “I’m sure Eve will find some way to knock you out. Preferably literally.”

“Ouch! Come on Angel, I thought we were past the name-calling and posturing.”

The vampire grimaced. “Yeah, about that...Lindsey, the kiss was a mistake.”

“Sure didn’t feel like one.”

“No, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, I just...I don’t want to get into this now. I don’t have time.”

“I’m not with Eve anymore.”

Angel sighed. “That doesn’t change anything.”

He went to walk away, but Lindsey’s grip on his shoulder stopped him.

“Look, if it’s the trust thing, I get it. But someone said something to me that kinda clicked. He said it didn’t matter in the end if you trusted each other or not, so long as you agreed on the bigger picture.”

Angel scoffed. “What idiot said that?”

“It was Wes actually.”

“Well he’s not exactly in the best frame of mind at the moment.”

“No but he was right. He and Lilah didn’t trust each other but they were in it for basically the same thing. They both wanted to connect. They had an attraction, and they might have been on opposite teams but they respected that. They just took what they could.”

“And then he chopped her head off.”

Angel turned and headed down the hall but Lindsey stuck with him.

“You told me you spent two centuries with Darla and never trusted her. But you agreed on some things – even if it was as basic as not killing each other. Two soulless demons made it work for hundreds of years, why couldn’t we?”

Angel rounded on him. “Darla and I were together a long time, yes. We had some fun, and she defied the Master for me. But I’ve been in love now – real, actual, mutual love that goes so much deeper than any of the lust or respect I had with her. I can’t go back now.”

“Then what are you gonna do? Cos you can’t go forwards. That happiness clause is just hanging over your head like the sword of Damocles. You couldn’t be happy with the Slayer. You couldn’t be happy with Cordelia. You gonna spend the rest of your unlife being as miserable as you’ve been this last century?”

“Yes!”

They were silent for a moment, then Lindsey laughed.

“Sounds great, boss man. But I’m pretty sure that’s why you keep ending up disconnected and borderline evil.”

Angel sneered. “Because you’d try so hard to keep me on the straight and narrow.”

“Maybe. You wouldn’t be much good to me if you were trying to rip my throat out.”

The vampire threw his hands up in frustration. “Forget it Lindsey! You say I can’t find love with trust because it will make me too happy. So my alternative is what, fucking you, never trusting you, never getting into anything emotional? Cos I’ve had plenty of empty sex and it didn’t cheer me up.”

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ at all. We’d be like...companions, you know? We could hang out, just talk, have some pretty hot sex without the losing your soul bit. Like friends who fuck. You still get the talking-about-feelings stuff, it’s just a lot less complicated.”

Angel was speechless for a second. “You realise how stupid that sounds?”

Lindsey shrugged. “Whatever.”

He turned to go and Angel almost let him. Instead he flattened the other man against the wall, bodies pressed together.

“I’m a little too stressed to lie about wanting you.”

“Okay.”

“But I still say this won’t work.”

“Let me prove you wrong.”

Angel’s gaze was intense as ever as he searched Lindsey’s face. The clear blue eyes, the laconic smile...he could almost believe they weren’t enemies. They _were_ still enemies, right?

Lindsey pushed forward and kissed him, and Angel decided it was a good time to stop thinking for once.

*****

The club was crowded, loud and dark, lit intermittently by the flashing lasers and spotlights in different neon colours. Exactly the kind of place she loved before jail. It attracted a certain kind of vampire: young, energetic and usually stupid. Gunn guided her to the bar with a hand that seemed to burn her through her jacket. The heat was kinda nice though.

“What’ll you have?” he leant down and shouted, his breath tickling her neck. The heat seemed to be radiating from his skin now, warming the side of her that was almost pushed against him by the swarm of people ordering drinks.

“Just a beer.” She shouted back.

He yelled something to the bartender, and two minutes later they were leaning on a railing watching the dancers below with drinks in hand.

“So what were the demons like in Mexico?”

“Ugly. The vamps in some cities were out of control.”

“They love themselves some unrest.”

Faith tipped her head back and drained her beer. Gunn couldn’t help admiring the way the lights danced over the curve of her neck and the breasts that were almost bursting out of her wifebeater. _Whoa man. This is Faith. She could crush every bone in your body without breaking a sweat. Be less obvious with your perving_.

“You wanna dance?”

“You think you can handle it?” he joked.

“I might teach you a thing or two, Charlie boy.”

He downed the last of his drink in one big swig and took her offered hand as she led him downstairs to the packed dance floor. The Slayer started swinging her hips in a way that should have been enough warning for any nearby nasties but did nothing to deter human predators. Gunn cast a few chilly glares and the guys backed off, but Faith didn’t even notice. She was already lost in the music. Charles thought, not for the first time, that it was easy to forget how young she really was. Slayers were always forced to grow up fast but Faith had been through so much on top of that. When she danced she looked about ten years younger and totally trouble free.

He tried to get into it, pulling out his staple moves, but he couldn’t keep up. He was starting to feel the punishment he’d taken during their big smackdown, whereas Faith was running on Slayer batteries. She flung herself around wildly, eyes shut as she absorbed the rhythm through her skin, smiling the whole time.

They’d been dancing for a little while when Faith noticed him lagging. She drew in closer, taking his hands and trying to perk him up. They moved together as easily as they had earlier, when they’d been back to back and surrounded by vamps. Her hands felt good in his; her eyes were open now, watching his face. The sea of bodies moving with them in the almost darkness gave a strange feeling that they weren’t Gunn and Faith anymore, that they weren’t even in LA – there was nothing but the music and the darkness and their bodies swaying in time.

Gunn’s fingers were hot steel laced through hers, the heat from him an almost solid presence in the few inches between them. She was smiling up at him when his eyes seemed to stretch out and burn her. She faltered a little and he caught her with a hand on her hip. She righted herself but he left it there, pulling Faith closer as their hips swivelled. She reached an arm up slowly and curled it around his neck, and the gap between them became nonexistent. She gasped involuntarily as the full force of him scorched her from chest to thighs, his heavy hands around her waist now as he pressed them together. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his dark face. They’d both stopped smiling now and she couldn’t tell one song from the next. Slowly, almost as if he was afraid, Gunn leant down and pressed his lips to hers.

*****

Wesley jotted down the last of his notes and dropped his pen, working out the kinks in his fingers. He felt like he’d been writing for hours. _Remind me not to ask Illyria for help again_. One question about Scath’al demon customs had turned into a thesis on the history of the species, their social evolution and current relevance in today’s world. All very informative, but his hand felt like it was in danger of falling off.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. Thank you Illyria. You did very well.”

He stood and collected up his papers to drop off in Angel’s in-tray, already thinking of the comfortable bed waiting for him at home.

“Stop, Wesley. Are you now retiring to your chair of misery to poison yourself and weep some more?”

“I hadn’t planned on it.”

The god king examined him with narrowed eyes as she moved from her place behind the desk and came to stand with him.

“You promised to fulfil your pledge and further my education if I helped you with the Scath’al demon heritage.”

“I did,” Wesley admitted reluctantly, “But it took quite a lot longer than I expected. Maybe in the morning?”

“No! Now.”

Normally he wouldn’t tolerate orders from Illyria but she looked so much like a pouting child with her clenched fists and exaggerated frown that he just sighed.

“Alright. I need to drop these in Angel’s office but then we could have a quick lesson. Why don’t you tell me what you want to know on the way?”

She fell into step beside him as they made their way across the reception area.

“I have some questions about human feelings. What is the purpose of your emotions?”

Wesley laughed. “Demons feel emotions. You yourself have proven that several times.”

“But there are some emotions felt only by humans or those demons whose blood is polluted with them. Love, for example. The shell felt it for you, and you still feel it for her; but Spike and Angel and Krevlornswath loved her too, in a different way. I do not understand this. When I walked this world there was no such thing as love. There was no humanity to invent the concept.”

Her words seemed to blow fresh icy air over Wesley’s wounds but he persisted.

“It is very hard to explain. Sometimes you can love a person in a way that means you want them to be happy and you want to spend time with them, like very good friends or family. And sometimes you love a person so much that it physically hurts to be apart. It happens at random and sometimes it happens when you know it shouldn’t.”

“The shell’s memory of you with the woman Lilah – that is something that should not have happened?”

Wes dropped his report on Angel’s desk with a painful grimace.

“Perhaps, but that wasn’t really love. I might have loved her, in time, but what we had was a sort of friendship and lust. You understand lust, I’m assuming?”

“I understand desire between demons. It is an impulse of great power for good or bad. But I do not know it in this human form, where it seems to be much more consuming. I think it is the fault of your social traditions.”

“We have spent a very long time pretending to be better than animals who cannot control their urges, but I assure you lust is just as you remember it.”

Illyria seemed to consider this for a moment.

“It is late. Your cells require rest.”

“Easier said than done.”

The god king opened a portal with a wave of her hand and offered it to Wesley.

“Home then.”

He took the offered hand without his usual revulsion and let her pull him through into his own lounge room. He was too tired to be disgusted.

*****

Angel broke the lock with one shove and Lindsey pulled him backwards into the office. Silently apologising to whoever worked in here, Angel swept everything off the desk and pushed Lindsey down onto it. He straddled the smaller man and slid big hands over his chest.

“Still finding time to work out under house arrest, Linds?”

“Never know when I’m gonna run into some demon that needs slaying.”

“I can think of one that appreciates the effort.”

Angel ripped Lindsey’s shirt open, leaning down to flick his tongue across the Southerner’s nipple.

“You done this before, Lindsey?”

“What, been with a vampire? Or had sex with a man?”

“Actually I was gonna say sex in the workplace.” Angel teased.

Lindsey paused. “No, can’t say that I have.”

“And the other two?” he asked, sweeping in low to nibble at the other man’s neck and collarbone.

“Yes to vampire and yes to man, but never both.”

Angel chuckled at the tiny hint of uncertainty in Lindsey’s reply. They kissed again, neither man being too gentle. Lindsey grabbed a letter opener from where it had fallen on the desk chair and slit Angel’s shirt open.

“Those things aren’t normally that sharp.”

“Evil law firm?” the human shrugged.

Angel grinned and pulled at Lindsey’s jean buttons, glad there was no belt to slow him down. He reached in and pulled out the other man’s cock. It was a decent length, nothing outrageous but so hard it swayed a little as it stood. Lindsey reached up to run his hands over the broad, cool chest above him and Angel leaned closer to give him better access as the vampire unzipped his slacks. He tugged Lindsey up into another bruising kiss and yanked him over the edge of the desk, turning him onto his stomach.

“Uh, Angel?”

“Yes Lindsey?” the vampire murmured in his ear, and the ex-lawyer almost forgot what he was saying.

“Aren’t we forgetting something?”

“Lindsey, if I don’t fuck you now I’m worried one or both of us will explode.”

“Yeah, no, that’s uh, that’s a good plan. Just might be a little tough without some preparation.”

Angel put his full weight on Lindsey’s back, nuzzling the hair on the back of his neck.

“Thought you said you’d done vampires before?”

Lindsey frowned in confusion, but then Angel made a soft noise and he could smell something coppery.

“Oh. Yeah. Forgive me if I’m a little scatter-brained but all the blood in my body’s gone to my dick.”

Angel smeared the blood dripping from his wrist over his fingers. It was only a small puncture, already closing up. He slid one stubby digit into Lindsey’s mouth, inhaling unnecessarily as the human sucked it clean.

“Ready?”

Before Lindsey could reply Angel had his jeans and underwear down around his ankles and was stroking the pink globes of his ass.

“So pretty Lindsey...”

His fingers trailed down, circling his hole in a slippery exploration, before Angel pushed one into him. Lindsey seized up at the intrusion but almost instantly relaxed, forcing himself open as Angel pushed deeper. His movements were slow, easy and very misleading given that Lindsey knew how turned on the vamp was. Angel patiently added a second, and then third, stretching Lindsey out deliciously. It hurt but he didn’t care, too eager to have the real thing.

Angel added a fourth and Lindsey huffed.

“Problem?”

“Angel, quit teasing. I’m ready.”

The vampire just continued to swirl his fingers slowly within the other man. “Not quite.”

Lindsey chuckled. “Yeah, I assure you, I am. I’m losing my damn mind here.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Yet.”

The voice was soft, a little sad. It was very different from the cold commanding tone Angel had been using up to now. Lindsey turned his head back as far as it would go and kissed Angel over his shoulder.

“I’ve already been waiting too long for this.”

There was a flicker of doubt in Angel’s dark eyes, but he pulled his hand free and bit his wrist again, slathering the scarlet liquid over his prick. Lindsey couldn’t help but be a little turned on by the blood. It reminded him of Darla somehow, and while he was very glad Angel was the vampire behind him, he’d always have a soft spot for the blonde.

“Ready?”

“Come on Angel, don’t make me beg.”

Angel pushed into him and Lindsey’s eyes rolled back in his head. Despite all that careful delving, he was not expecting to be stretched so far. Angel was much thicker than he’d expected and as he slid in slowly Lindsey felt every half inch as a bump of pain. He put his forehead on the desk, panting.

Angel stopped. “You okay?”

“You...weren’t exaggerating.”

“Want me to-”

“No! No just give me a second.”

Angel applied himself to kissing Lindsey’s shoulders and neck, his fingers rubbing the man’s lower back soothingly as he adjusted to the pressure.

“I got a new respect for Darla.”

Angel snorted. “Darla was a professional. She loved it.”

Still Lindsey couldn’t help but feel sorry for all the others subjected to that monster without a say, back when Angel was Angelus and liked playing with his food. By now the sharp ache had faded and there was only an uncomfortable pressure. Lindsey twitched his hips.

“We ready now?”

“God yes.”

Angel pulled back and slammed into him, brushing his prostate in one continuous wave of pleasure. Lindsey moaned and grabbed at the surface of the desk, but of course there was nothing to hold onto. Angel thrust again and he actually cried out.

“Like that Linds?”

“Fuck!” he mumbled.

Angel seemed to take that as a yes. He sped up a bit, sawing into him at a constant rate, not too rough and not too fast but just enough to have Lindsey squirming underneath the heavier man. His bare back rubbed against Angel’s chest, big hands squeezing Lindsey’s hips. He pushed back using the desk for leverage, ramming himself down on Angel’s cock as his world spiralled down to one constant overwhelming sensation. He was muttering constantly, his words lost as his accent got thicker. He pushed back and Angel pushed forward, the desk sliding across the carpeted floor with each stroke.

Angel reached a hand around and gripped Lindsey’s erection. It was so swollen his touch almost hurt and the Southerner hissed as he closed his fingers over the weeping tip. Somehow the vamp managed to co-ordinate it so his hand moved firmly over Lindsey without disrupting his hard thrusts, faster now. The two different rhythms were driving him crazy, the feeling of being crushed from behind and dragged out of his body in front, and Lindsey was screaming louder now.

Angel arched his head up, holding on to Lindsey tighter, almost painfully. He was being drawn into the vice-like grip of Lindsey’s ass, losing himself. With a roar he slid into game face and rested his head on the human’s shoulder, emptying into him with a series of vicious, quick thrusts. Lindsey groaned as Angel’s movements slowed, the hand on his dick momentarily distracted.

“Please, please, God, oh Angel.”

The vampire recovered enough to speed up his hand motions, slipping back into his human face to gnaw at Lindsey’s flesh. He quickly jerked his hips just once.

“ANGEL!”

The other man shot his release over the side of the desk, clawing at the wood. Angel pressed down, holding him close enough to feel the ripples of Lindsey’s climax in his own skin.

*****

Faith was wrapped around him completely, clinging so tight that he thought he might get smothered in brown curls and tan flesh. He couldn’t even hear the music anymore, but he knew they were getting bumped by people dancing around them. With some effort he managed to break away.

“Should we get out of here?”

“You tell me.” Faith raised a brow, biting her lip.

“Fuck yes.” He grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the exit.

His car was only two blocks away, but it was a slow two blocks; they had to stop every few steps to kiss again, bodies pressed together against shop windows and lamp posts. When they finally got there Gunn fumbled with the keys for a minute, trying to work around the girl clinging to him.

“Uh, Faith? This might be easier if you give me a minute...”

“I’ll give you twenty seconds.”

“Good enough.”

She gnawed at her lip and leaned against the car while he got it unlocked and opened the back door.

“Milady?”

Faith shook her head. “I might be anxious to get those pants off you, but I’m not that impatient. I wanna go someplace we can stay in bed for like, twelve hours.”

“As you wish.”

 

He pulled out from the kerb, Faith lounging in the passenger seat.

“How far to your place?”

“10 minutes.”

“Too long.”

She reached over and unzipped his pants, reaching in. Gunn jerked the wheel as her hand closed around his swelling member.

“Whoa, hey! Thought you weren’t that impatient.”

“I changed my mind.” She breathed in his ear, curls brushing against his face.

“Okay, still – drivin’ here. Danger.”

She pulled his cock out and smiled, biting her lip.

“Aaaaand Slayer. Lives for danger, okay.” He mumbled as she started stroking him.

“Don’t be such a prude Charlie boy. Let go a little.”

Faith bent and took him in her mouth, and Gunn honestly thought he was going to crash the car. Her lips were so wet, so strong as she sucked and licked his length.

“Faith! Oh God, Faith.” He leaned back in his seat, trying to focus on the road.

Luckily it was late and the normal bumper-to-bumper day time traffic was gone, because he didn’t always succeed. Gunn ran a red light when the Slayer reached down and squeezed the bottom of his shaft, and he took a corner way too wide when she sunk all the way down and started to hum. She giggled as he tried to right the car but that just made it worse, driving him half insane as she started bobbing up and down like a maniac. They were close to his apartment now, and he thought he might just make it in one piece. The lawyer sped up, desperate to get parked before that thing Faith was doing with her tongue over his head made him completely lose it. Faith sucked and slurped and swivelled her lips around him as he did the worst parking job ever. He threw on the hand brake as she took him deep into her throat and Gunn howled, spurting into her mouth as he shook under her tough Slayer hands.

Faith sat up and wiped her face on the back of her hand. “Ready to go again?”

He looked at her incredulously, feeling pretty boneless at that moment. She was pouting at him, chest out, midriff showing, and he nodded.

 

They were good all the way upstairs, but that might have only been because Charles lived on the second floor and it wasn’t a very long wait. He opened the door and stood aside, waving her in.

“Don’t mind if I do, sir.” She curtsied.

He just leaned in the doorway and watched her, the way she entered a room. She took everything in with one sweeping glance, then walked around touching things. She didn’t pay any one item more than a second’s attention, just reached out and caressed them as she passed. Maybe it was because she was used to being the one admired, the one everyone wanted to touch. Maybe it was just her innate sensuality spilling out. Charles didn’t care either way because it was damn sexy.

“Nice place.” She nodded, hands in her back pockets now cutting off the touching.

“Does the job,” he came over, “You said something about a bed?”

Gunn led her to his room. It wasn’t much but the view of the trees outside was pretty. You didn’t see many trees in L.A. Faith peeked out through the curtains, street light melding to her curves.

“Very nice place.” She looked over her shoulder.

He took his shirt off, tossing it aside. She inhaled sharply and he raised a brow. _Did Faith just make that noise?_ She wandered closer as he kicked off his shoes, toying with her belt.

“You think you can handle this?” she rasped in that low, husky tone.

“Oh yeah. You?”

“I wanna see you try.”

Charles grabbed a fistful of her hair, his other hand snaking around her waist as he pulled her to him. Faith met his lips with hers violently, those long drawn-out kisses from the street nothing compared to the ferocity of her touches now. He shoved her singlet up and she let him pull away to yank it off, but only for a moment. He felt like he was being devoured, like Faith’s animal side wanted him for lunch. Strangely enough he didn’t mind.

He threw her back onto the bed a little harder than he would most girls, but he could feel how much she wanted it rough. Her belt went and her black lace bra too, and then he was laying dark hands over her full breasts and almost fucking whimpering as she arched up into his grasp. She was so hot, with her trim waist and the dark eyes watching him, her breath coming a little quicker as he cupped and squeezed her flesh. He was amazed she could still have so much energy after all they’d been through earlier.

“You just gonna stare all day, or are you gonna do something about it?” she teased.

“Patience.”

He rolled her jeans down her legs, exposing firm, muscular calves and thighs. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and he raised a brow.

“What? Old habit.” She said with faux innocence.

He didn’t reply, just slid his fingers along the back of her leg from ankle to knee, swirling around her knee cap for a second before continuing up her thigh. She hissed as he pressed into the line of her pelvis. He bent down and nipped at her sides, pushing her up on the bed as he climbed over her. He kissed her shoulder, moving up her neck towards her ear and then along her jaw. Faith writhed beneath him, grunting with frustration.

“Problem?”

“You’re still wearing your pants Charlie boy.”

“You don’t want to take it slow?” he traced a fingernail down the middle of her chest and over her ribs, trailing down towards her bellybutton, “You can’t handle it?”

Wrong thing to say apparently. Faith flung him aside and rolled to straddle his hips facing his feet. She ripped his pants off, tossing the ragged material back at his face. He batted it away and she was lifting herself up, guiding his hardness into her with one hand as she leant back. His eyes crossed in his head a little. Faith was tighter than any girl he’d ever been with, and there was a time he’d been with lots. She was a lot wetter than he expected given the brief foreplay, but then for Faith the whole night had been foreplay from the moment they spotted the vamps.

“Watch out, Charles. I’m in control now.”

She rolled her hips and he groaned.

“Yes ma’am.”

The Slayer paused, just letting him fill her for a moment. She rested forward on her hands, hair swinging back and forth as she rocked. She was strong, thighs pressing against his as his hands went to her curves. He let her have the reins, riding him into the mattress at a pace he couldn’t have matched on his own. She was intense, the smell of her sweat and the husky moans she made. He wanted to taste those lips again but she was too far away.

Eventually he’d had enough of the no-touching bullshit. He used a moment when she slowed slightly and dragged himself off the bed, still inside Faith, to the wall opposite. She flung her hands up as he pushed her forward and swung his pelvis.

“What happened to me being in charge?” she breathed.

“Wasn’t enough.”

His hands slid around her body, kneading the full breasts as they swayed with the motion of his thrusts. Faith used the wall to push back, meeting him hard. Charles was going to ache tomorrow, if she didn’t break his hips tonight. She was making animal noises, shrieks and growls he expected from a vamp. He buried his face in her hair and pounded her against the wall, fingers drifting down to twist in her dark curls. He brushed his thumb against her clit and Faith stumbled a little, legs unsteady.

“Shit! Gunn, Gunn, oh my God!”

He did it again, yanking her close as he teased her button and she was shaking, an uncontrollable force in his arms wailing and writhing like a storm. He fought to hang on but he couldn’t move anyway, her tight walls gripping his shaft so hard he thought it might break off. He wouldn’t have cared in that moment though, white exploding behind his eyes as he came.

Faith’s muscles relaxed and she slid off him, slithering down the wall into a heap. His legs didn’t hold up much longer either and he joined her rather than falling.

“Wow. That was intense.”

“Ah, thanks Charlie. You weren’t too bad yourself.” She winked.

He looked her over. They were both completely covered in sweat, her hair mussed into unruly curls. She was catching her breath, eyes closed, and looked almost peaceful.

“So I don’t know if you wanna stay but you’re welcome to.”

“Thanks. I don’t plan on moving for awhile.”

“You wanna hit the hay?” he asked.

She cracked an eyelid and gave him that customary smirk. “Please! We’re just getting started.”

Gunn felt something like a cross between anticipation and panic.

*****

Once Lindsey’s head had cleared and he’d caught his breath, he noticed the huge weight on top of him.

“Uh, Angel?”

“Hmm?” was the sleepy response.

“Need to breathe soon.”

The vampire slid out of him and Lindsey groaned at the sudden change in sensation. He sat up, rubbing his stomach where he’d been bent over the desk. There was a line pressed into his skin from the edge. He hadn’t even felt it at the time.

“Well, that was...fun.”

“Not too fun?” Lindsey eyed the vamp with a smirk, “Didn’t make you too happy did I?”

Angel did up his pants. “Not today. Though it was pretty fucking good to finally get in that tight ass.”

He would have blushed if that wasn’t completely ridiculous at this stage. He raised a hand and rubbed the spots on his neck where Angel had nibbled. They felt a little hot, but not enough to be bruised.

“You didn’t bite me.”

“You didn’t ask.” Angel shrugged.

“Guess I didn’t think about it at the time. Most vamps just go for the throat when they come.”

“I’m not most vamps.”

“No, you’re really not.”


	5. Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast

The first thing Gunn noticed when he woke up was the empty side of his bed. It was strange, because he distinctly remembered falling asleep with a curvy brunette in his arms.

“Course,” he sighed as he sat up, “Faith wouldn’t stay. Girl’s a free spirit.”

He went to the bathroom and splashed his face, but it wasn’t enough. He still felt sticky from the hours and hours and _hours_ of Slayer sex. Charles jumped in the shower, resting back against the tiles as he assessed the damage. _Bruises – everywhere. Bites – neck, mostly. Broken bones – none. Torn muscles – possibly several. Not bad_.

“You want some company?”

He almost fell over as his head jerking around made him lose his balance on the slippery floor.

Faith snorted. “Smooth.”

She was leaning on the door frame in one of his T-shirts and not much else. Sleep deprivation looked good on her somehow.

“I thought you’d already split.” He said as she peeled off the shirt and climbed in with him.

“Nah, thought I might stick around for a bit. Catch up on my sleep.” She smiled, rinsing her hair.

“I’m glad.”

“I had a good time, Charlie boy. Thanks for the dance.”

He kissed her and she wrapped one hand around his neck, the other trailing down to his crotch. She tickled his thigh and he flinched.

“Sorry! Sorry, kinda sore.”

“Aw baby. Want me to kiss it better?”

*****

Angel didn’t look up from his files as Lindsey strolled in.

“I’m working.”

“I know. Just thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

“Yeah, well now’s not the best time.”

Lindsey frowned at Angel’s tone. It was colder than he’d expected. _Probably already wishes last night didn’t happen. Idiot, Linds_.

“Okay then.”

He turned to go, but suddenly Angel was in front of him, leaning so close Lindsey was practically pushed back onto the desk.

“Don’t think I’m not interested, Lindsey. Last night was great. But it’s office hours. Why don’t you come back at lunch?”

“Oh,” was Lindsey’s brilliant reply, “I can do that.”

“Excellent,” Angel kissed him fiercely before heading back to his chair, “See you at one.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Lindsey shuffled out, lips still tingling.

*****

Wesley woke up to find Illyria standing over him.

“Good morning.”

“You have slept an inordinate amount of time. You will never make it to the offices of the Wolf, Ram and Hart before their petty deadline.”

Wes blinked at his apparently useless alarm clock. “You’re right.”

He rolled over and pulled the blankets higher.

“Aren’t you going to get up? You did not drink any of that poison last night. You should not still require rest.”

He sighed. “Illyria, I am going to get up in a minute. Humans need some time to adjust when they come out of a deep sleep.”

“Because you are weak.”

“If you say so.”

Even with his eyes closed he could feel her scowling, though why she cared if Wesley was late for work was beyond him.

“Standing there staring at me isn’t helping.”

“What should I do instead? I have read all your tomes of knowledge. Your illuminated box shows only the worst of humankind.”

He grinned at her assessment of reality TV. “I don’t know, sit quietly for a moment.”

She was silent. _Probably still pouting_. Sometimes the god king was worse than a small child. There was a slight squeak as something pressed on the mattress next to him and a small form rested close without actually touching him. Wesley cracked one eye open.

“What are you doing?”

Illyria looked uncomfortable lying beside him, arms folded over her stomach. “Being quiet, as you wished.”

“Why are you doing it so close to me?”

She shot him a venomous look and sat up. “Does my presence offend you? Scores have crawled over fire and wasteland just to kneel at my feet, pathetic human!”

 _Did I actually hurt her...feelings?_ “No, wait. You can stay. It was just unusual, that’s all.”

“As if I wish to share the company of such a puny, insignificant being-”

“Stay.”

The way she calmed down told him she really was upset at his implied rejection, her posturing designed to hide the imagined weakness. She settled back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling quietly. It was almost nice having her there, the two of them just being peaceful. _Just when you think she couldn’t possibly surprise you again..._

*****

“Gunn!”

He shook himself awake. Charles had been drifted off while waiting at the coffee machine, staring into space. He swore as he rescued his overflowing mug.

“You okay?” Faith frowned, handing him a napkin.

“Yeah, good, good. Tired.”

She smirked. “I figure. Angel ream you about being late?”

“Didn’t say a word. He was oddly cheerful this morning.”

Faith raised a brow. “How cheerful?”

The tightness at the corners of her mouth betrayed her light-hearted tone.

“Not perfectly, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

They both took a seat at the break room table.

“So I had a lot of fun last night.”

He grinned. “Me too.”

“Not just the sex – though that did earn an honourable mention. Just patrolling, hanging out, having a drink and a dance. It was cool.”

“Yeah. You’re okay, for a Slayer.”

She slapped his chest in mock-hurt and he winced.

“God, sorry! I forgot about the general tenderness.”

“No problem. So if you had fun, and I had fun, maybe we should have fun again some other night?”

She looked almost nervous. “Like a date?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Faith seemed to think for a moment, dragging it out long enough that he started to freak.

“Alright. Show me some more of your town.”

She bounced up, kissed his cheek and left the kitchen with a wave. Gunn grinned into his coffee and noticed half the room were looking at him. _Estimated time it takes for that to spread around the office? Hour and a half._

*****

“Oi, Watcherboy, we got a call.” Spike strode into the room, cool as ever.

“In the middle of the day?” Wesley looked up from his books with a frown.

“Mr Wyndham-Price? Should we go?”

He flapped a hand at his assistants and they scurried out, eying Illyria warily as they passed.

“Got them right scared of you, Wes. Or is it your lass?” The vamp winked at Illyria as he perched on the edge of Wes’ desk.

“What was the call about, Spike?” Wesley reminded him gently.

“Big nasty making with the mojo downtown. He’s got a bunch of people trapped in a warehouse while his cronies empty it.”

“What sort of warehouse?”

“No clue. We going?”

Wes rolled his eyes. “Sure. Illyria, would you like to come?”

She looked down her nose. “I suppose it may be of some interest.”

“That means yes, right?” Spike drawled.

“Yes, vampire.” The god king’s lips pursed.

“Then let’s get cracking.”

 

They drove to the warehouse, Spike refusing to go anywhere near the portal Illyria summoned because he didn’t trust her not to drop him in full sunlight. Wesley parked the unremarkable sedan down the street and stepped out, opening a nearby manhole cover quickly.

“You’ll find a way in?”

“No problem. The sewers are always the best back entrance.” Spike said grimly, staring at the bare foot of sun between the car and the hole. He took a big breath and made the dive, cursing as the light singed him.

“You okay?” Wesley shouted into the darkness.

“Fine. Just worry about your end!”

“Are you coming with me?” the mystic asked.

“Very well.” Illyria pulled herself from the car gracefully.

She followed him towards the warehouse. For the outside there were no signs of disturbance, but Wesley could smell something off about the place. He took a wide circle around the building, avoiding the main doors and coming to a dust and grime-covered window.

“Batteries?” he peered in, “Why would a demon want batteries?”

“What are these...batteries?” Illyria tilted her head.

“They store power.”

“Then they are valuable indeed.”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

He could see dim figures moving inside, but couldn’t make out anything substantial. They were going to have to go in blind.

“Alright, we’ll take the back door. Be careful.”

Illyria scoffed. “Worry about yourself, human.”

 

Wesley tried the handle but it wasn’t locked. He laid his ear to the door and heard only quiet, distant voices.

“Come on.”

They crept into a sort of kitchen cum break room, a few dismal chairs and tables and a sad old fridge. The laminate was peeling off the cupboards and the whole place seemed lonely and dull. An open doorway led into a hall with two cramped offices on either side, both abandoned. They could hear the whimpers of human hostages and an almost reptilian voice giving orders, but the noise was coming from the opposite end of the building.

“How will we formulate a plan without Spike?” Illyria whispered, mouth almost touching his ear.

“He’ll show himself once we do. He’s flexible like that.”

They inched through tall, long metal shelving stacked with cartons that stretched the full width of the warehouse and half the length. At the end it dropped away into packing tables covered in cardboard and tape, stacks of batteries scattered over the surfaces and floor. A small group of workers were kneeling on the concrete, watched by two large yellow demons that looked like walking crocodiles with short snouts. One was in a bright green Hawaiian shirt and the other was chewing gum loudly while he picked at his scales. They were unarmed, though from the look of their nails and teeth, Wesley thought that pretty irrelevant. He could see more dotted around, packing boxes into a truck under the direction of a demon in a strange toga-like purple robe that was quite striking against his skin.

“All of them! Every single one!” he rasped at his goons.

“Right. If you take out these two and get the people to safety, I’ll handle the rest.”

“Why should I care for these mortals’ lives?” she looked sceptical.

“Please, Illyria?”

She grumbled too quietly for him to understand but nodded. Wesley ran out into the open, dodging the unprepared duo closest to him and facing the leader.

“An intruder? Put him with the others!”

“Stop! I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you need to leave now.” His words clipped coldly.

The crocodile demon chuckled roughly. “I do not think so. I am Buwaya. No being has ever bested me in tests of magic.”

“Never heard of you.” Wesley smiled politely.

The demon growled and edged closer. “You will not forget the name, I think, for the short remainder of your life.”

 

He raised chubby hands and blasted Wes, who dived for cover just as the energy flew past. He rounded with his own fireball, burning off part of the elaborate robes.

“Illyria, now!”

He was vaguely aware of the screaming behind him that meant the god king was following his instructions. He was too focussed on Buwaya’s men creeping closer, distracting him from the key demon.

“Afternoon, boys.” Spike popped up on the roof of the truck, jumping feet first on a demon’s head.

“Bout time.” Wesley jeered.

“Nice to see you too, Wes.” The blond hoed into his opponents, slamming them into the cement floor and drawing them off Wes long enough that he could concentrate. Buwaya  was good; perhaps not as good as he thought he was, but he was proving a challenge. Wesley pulled out all his go-to spells and the demon just batted them away like fireflies.

“Alright, something trickier then?”

He unleashed a particularly powerful spell designed to freeze Buwaya in place. It hit the demon square-on but only slowed him slightly, a counter-spell already on its way back to Wes. He grabbed a handful of batteries and stuck them straight down his toothy mouth, crunching until the acid leaked down over his chin. Buwaya pointed and the next fireball was faster, close enough to singe Wes’ eyebrows.

“So that’s what they’re for.”

Spike was wailing away, slashing demons with a knife he’d picked up somewhere. Wes chanced a glance back at the hostages and saw they were gone. When he turned again a wave of pressure knocked him off his feet.

“Wesley!”

A surging blue bolt flattened Buwaya, his robes disintegrating as his flesh broiled.

“Illyria?” Wesley regarded the hand that reached down to help him up.

“I killed all mine, and I thought...”

“I might need help?” he smiled wryly.

“Yes. You are only a pathetic member of a wretched species, after all.”

He dusted off his hands and turned to survey the warehouse. Spike was giggling gleefully as he smacked a demon’s head in with the truck door, but the others were already down.

“Did you get the workers to safety?”

“Of course.”

“I never doubted you.” He smirked.

Red lit up the room like a bomb blast and Illyria immediately dropped like a stone, curling on the floor as she clutched her stomach. Wesley and Spike both whipped around. Buwaya was leaning up on his arm, wobbly, claws still outstretched from whatever he’d done. Apart from being blinded for a moment, neither man seemed affected.

“What the hell was that?” Spike gaped.

Wesley strode over and grabbed the demon by the neck, flesh loose and slick under his fingers. “What have you done to her?”

“A little gift. You might pray, if you believe in a higher power.” He coughed, eyes rolling back.

Wes dropped the dead wizard with a disgusted sound, flicking bits of scale off his hand as he ran back to Illyria.

“Illyria? Illyria, can you hear me?”

Her eyes were closed but she didn’t seem hurt externally. Spike joined him.

“What should I do?”

“She needs more help than I can provide here. Help me get her to the car.”

*****

With all the fancy medical equipment at the office, they still had no idea what to do with her. Illyria’s physiology wasn’t exactly standard, even for demons. The best the doctors there could tell Wes was she didn’t seem dead and he could take her home if he wanted.

“No wonder we pay them so well.” He groused as he cleaned her knuckles of croc demon blood.

He sat by the bed, pouring over his collected research on the Old Ones, but as far as he could tell they never went into comas. In their own time they were indestructible.

“Your time is past, Illyria. You belong back in the Well.”

“Truly I wish now I had never been brought out of it.”

“Illyria!” Wes dropped his books and knelt by her, “You’re okay?”

“I have not seen that enchantment in ten thousand years, and I did not miss it.” She gasped, struggling to sit up.

“You know what it was?” Wesley helped her, ignoring her weak protest slaps at his hands.

“The invention of a malicious shaman. It can knock out an Old One for a short time. We thought we had erased every trace of it when we killed him, but somehow the nameless thing survived.”

“But it’s only temporary, yes?”

She shook her head against the pillow. “It passes, but I will take time to recover from the draining. Too much time.”

“Perhaps there’s something I can do.”

She looked doubtful but he went straight to the kitchen for his healing texts.

“There should be something that will help, even in such an odd case.” He settled back into his chair.

A hand touched his gently and he looked up.

“You will not speak of this thing? You will not tell anyone I am so easily weakened?”

“No, I won’t.”

That seemed to placate her; she leaned back and closed her eyes to the soft sound of his turning pages.

 

Wesley pulled a face at the strong stench of the tea, but it was pretty standard in his line of work. Between corpses and demons and spell ingredients, his world was rife with bad smells. He poured the mixture into a tall mug and approached the bed, sitting gingerly on the edge.

“Illyria? Are you awake?”

“Obviously.” She droned, eyes still shut.

“Then you won’t mind drinking this for me.”

Her lids eased open slowly, the god king staring at his offered remedy suspiciously.

“It smells vile.”

“Tastes terrible too.” He said, expressionless.

She took it and drank the whole thing down in one go, blanching at the taste.

“I wanted to say something...earlier. I’m proud of you.”

She glared at him. “What?”

“At the warehouse. You helped and you saved those workers and-and you saved me too, I think.”

She shrugged. “It was stimulating.”

“Do you really wish you’d never come back?”

“I don’t know. I learn from you...it’s pointless and annoys me, caring about humans...and yet I am compelled to continue.”

“Do you honestly care about any human?” he frowned, taken aback.

“I suppose I care about you. But you are not ordinary. You are my Qwa’ha Xahn.”

“Oh.” Wes looked down.

He took the empty cup to the sink, grinning a little. _He_ was a Qwa’ha Xahn. _Take that, Watchers_.


	6. A Raven Like a Writing Desk

Wesley had been better lately about not drinking too much, focussing on acquiring some new rare volumes for the book vault. It was more productive than staring at the wall ignoring his blue house guest and wishing he could undo reality. But when Gunn and Faith insisted he come out for a drink and he gave his usual excuses, the Slayer and her new pal bodily picked him up and dragged him from the building.

“You can’t stay behind that desk forever, Wes. You’ll get stuck that shape.” Gunn flung him into the backseat.

“I’ll report you to HR, see if I don’t.” He grumbled, sinking down into the seat as the evil pair sat up front.

“You’ll thanks us later, Wes.” Faith chuckled.

Later was two in the morning when he’d barely made it the three minutes from the street outside his building to his apartment, swaying as he struggled for another three minutes with the light switch.

“Bloody children.” He cursed, taken over by giggles.

The light snapped on and he stepped back, almost falling in his startled state.

“Wesley?”

“Fred?” he squinted.

“What time is it?”

“Uh...late, I s’pose. Did I wake you?”

The brunette was under his covers, hair loose over her shoulders in a soft curl.

“Yeah, you big lummox. Come over here and let me look at you.”

He staggered towards her, dropping onto his back on the mattress with a grunt.

“This can’t be real.”

She shuffled closer, lifting his head into her lap. “You feel pretty real to me. Your breath certainly is.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment before sighing contently. “I’ll regret this in the morning.”

“The drinking or the dream?”

“Both. They both hurt too much, afterwards.”

“I’ve missed you Wes.”

“Oh don’t.” He whispered.

“But I have. Have you missed me?”

He reached a hand up to stroke her face. “More than a man possibly could.”

Fred slid away, twisting so she was now on top of the covers next to him. She bent down over his chest and kissed him, so warm and slippery and sweet he almost died.

“You don’t feel like a dream.” He muttered, running his hands through her hair.

“I must be a really good one then.” She winked, straddling his hips.

She kissed him again, clinging desperately as if she could already feel herself slipping away. Wesley moaned softly as she ran her hands over his thighs and up towards the growing bulge of his groin. Fred fiddled with the buttons on his pants, wrestling them open. Her small hand slipped in and he inhaled sharply, almost hyperventilating.

“I l-l-l-love you.”

 

Illyria froze, hand still on Wesley. He was looking up at her so adoringly, so trusting. Suddenly she felt an itchiness under the shell’s own pink skin. Was this...wrong? She tried to tell herself a good demon did not worry about right and wrong, but the deep blue of Wesley’s gaze unsettled her. Reluctantly she released him and rolled onto her side, curling up against him instead.

“What?” he frowned, mostly with drunk confusion.

“I love you too Wes.”

He smiled happily and nuzzled against her. “Mmm, Fred.”

The alcohol took its toll and he was snoring in seconds, while Illyria lay staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell was the matter with her.

*****

Illyria wandered the lobby quietly, touching the plants as she spoke to them in the strange ‘song of the green’, as she put it. Wesley was glad she had some company to keep her from offending yet more Wolfram & Hart employees – or worse, clients. Still, he felt uneasy seeing her so close, the dream from the night before suddenly too vivid.

“Hey, wanna show me what you got? Toss me around a little?” Faith waggled her brows as she leaned on a pillar near the god king.

“Very well. I could use the distraction.”

The duo headed for the training room. Wes was about to follow when the elevator doors pinged open and a loud Texan drawl called his name. His insides immediately felt like they’d turned to ice; he almost couldn’t bring himself to turn around, but somehow he forced his feet to move. Roger and Trish Burkle stood by the elevators, suitcases in hand.

“Look, he does remember us!”

“Come on dear, it’s not like these boys’d forget little Fred’s folks. Not after the bug thing.”

“Why are you here?” Wesley didn’t mean to say it, but he was so shocked it just came out.

There was a second where they seemed to stiffen up and he quickly recovered.

“I mean, what-”

“Hawaii.”

“Been savin’ up for years.”

“Thought we’d take a layover and surprise Fred. Uh, know where we can find her?” Roger glanced around.

For the second time in less than a minute Wesley was at a complete loss. It only lasted an instant before the horrifying weight of the news he had to give fell on his shoulders.

“Step into my office.”

The Burkles followed him, admiring his knick knacks and smart furniture.

“Gotta say this is a step up from where you boys used to hang your hat.” Fred’s father closed his hands around his belt, nodding with approval.

“We didn’t wanna say anything but we were a little worried about that old hotel.”

 “But Fred called it home, so we just kept our mouths shut.”

“Girl reaches a certain age, she’s earned the right to make her own decisions.”

“Which with Fred was around seven, wasn’t it?”

They both laughed and Wesley just couldn’t take it anymore, the way they kept saying her name like it was nothing. Laughing. Reminiscing.

“Mr and Mrs Burkle-”

“Please. Roger and Trish.”

“The way she goes on about y’all, well, it feels like we’re practically family.” Trish beamed, giving him that look she always had that seemed to imply she wanted him to be actual family.

“So where is that prodigal daughter – out saving the world with that nice Angel fella?”

There it was again. Where’s Fred? Where was she? Why hadn’t they dealt with this sooner? Why did Wesley have to be the one to say it?

“Roger, Trish, there’s something you need to know. Fred-”

“Mom?”

Wes’ eyes almost popped out of his head. She was standing in the doorway like it was just a normal day, human and alive and smiling wide, the Fred from his dream. The Burkles descended on her in a flurry of hugs and loud greetings, but he was rooted to the spot. _How did she do it?_

 

Illyria, as Fred, was pointing out things in the lab as the Burkles oohed and aahed. Wesley trailed along, still unsure how he felt about the whole thing. It hurt him every time she spoke, every giggle, every look, but at the same time it raised troubling questions. She directed them to her office – _Fred’s office_ , he corrected, _Fred’s empty office_ – and they were alone.

“What the hell are you doing?” he whispered.

“Your grief was particularly worse when they appeared. I could not tolerate it. I thought this would be more convenient.”

His eyes narrowed as he turned her words over in his mind. “You didn’t want me to be upset?”

She looked flustered. “Do you think I care if you are distressed?”

“Yes. Though I’m not sure this is any less disturbing.” He nodded towards her form.

“It’s a simple modulation of my form. I appear as I choose. Do you wish me to stop?”

She gave him that trademark head tilt, the curiosity something he’d seen on Fred’s face a hundred times but coming across completely different. It was something in her eyes. They didn’t quite mesh with her face.

“Sweetie, you have got to do a better job decorating.”

They both looked up to find Trish eying them warily.

“Is everything okay?”

Wesley glanced at the Fred pretence. “Everything’s fine.”

Illyria continued the tour of the lab and Wesley let himself fall behind. It was wrong, wrong in many different ways. But he couldn’t bear telling the Burkles Fred had died for such a stupid reason as bad luck. He didn’t want to ruin this moment for them. And in her own terrible way Illyria seemed to be trying to make them…happy? _Well maybe not the Burkles. She doesn’t even know them_. But him, definitely. She was trying to help him for no apparent personal gain. It merited thinking about.

*****

Lindsey was bumming around, tossing a baseball idly from hand to hand as he stood glaring out the window. He was acting like some stupid smitten schoolboy, missing a guy who was nothing more than a sounding board and occasional fuck buddy. A friend with some serious, violent, benefits. He dropped the ball on his couch in disgust. There had to be something worth watching on TV. They got over 500 demon channels as well as cable.

The phone on the coffee table rang, and he just stared at it. No one rang him. He was practically invisible, off the grid except where the Angelettes were concerned. He picked it up cautiously, as if the phone itself was going to attack, and pressed the button.

“Hello?”

“Lindseyyyyy. How’s it going in sunny L.A?”

He found himself grinning without meaning to. “Fine, same as ever.”

“God, don’t tell me you’re bored.”

“Maybe.”

Angel sighed. “Me too. Spike is being such a brat about this whole Italy thing. I needed to hear another voice that wasn’t calling me a ponce or attempting bad Italian.”

“Sure thing. What’s going on at your end?”

“Waiting. Lots of waiting. So what are you wearing?”

Lindsey choked a little, clearing his throat before he could answer. “Just jumped straight into it, hey?”

“I know it’s clichéd but I’m a traditionalist. You still haven’t answered.”

“Tight jeans, white tank, red checked shirt.”

“Buttoned?”

“No.” Lindsey smirked.

“Veryyyy nice. Sitting on the couch then?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it your turn now?”

There was silence as the other man considered.

“I’m in the bathroom of the apartment we’ve been granted in the Rome Wolfram & Hart office. Spike’s supposedly sleeping outside.”

“Risky. You’re full of surprises old man.”

Angel let the jibe pass. “I’m in a black sweater, slacks.”

“That’s new for you.”

“It’s hot here. The streets are steamy, loud.”

The soft, rolling tones of Angel’s voice through the phone were making Lindsey fidget.

“Unbutton your jeans.”

He twitched at the order but obliged, sinking back into the couch as he unzipped them.

“Are you touching yourself yet?”

“Nope.” Lindsey smiled.

“Underwear?”

“Not wearing any.”

“Rascal,” Angel hissed, “Reach in and grab your cock.”

Lindsey obeyed, gripping the flesh gently as he pulled it out of his pants semi-hard. A few light strokes and it was standing to attention.

“How does it feel?”

“Like you’re too far away.”

Angel chuckled. “What would you do for me if I was there?”

“Get on my knees under your desk while you were working. Unzip those boring black office slacks and get out that big ol’ tree trunk between your legs. I’d put my mouth on the tip, jaw stretching til it aches as I slid down until my nose touched your stomach.”

He could hear Angel stifle a moan and the image of the vampire touching himself, straining to be quiet, sent a jolt through his belly. Lindsey stroked himself just a little faster.

“Are the windows blanked out?”

“Nope. Anyone walking past can see your face, so you gotta control it. I love that, looking up at you struggling, the way you gnaw at your lip. Door’s locked, so no interruptions as I suck and lick and nip, not until you get a call.”

“I think I need more information about this sucking and licking.”

Lindsey’s breathing sped up with his movements, his thumb flicking over the tip of his cock on each swipe, cool pre-cum gathering there.

“I don’t stop, and you try and get off the line as fast as possible, but there’s a couple of moans that get through. Your client asks if you’re okay and you stammer out a reply before hanging up.”

“Lindsey...” Angel huffed.

“I trail my tongue down your shaft to the balls, flick them a little with the tip. I pull your slacks down further and suck my fingers, looking up at you the whole time.”

Lindsey could imagine the dark, intense stare of Angel looking down at him under the desk, could see the hurried motions that must have accompanied the pants on the other end of the phone. He thrust up into his hand hard now though it wasn’t enough – didn’t even come close to the real thing.

“I take you in again, as much as I can, while my fingers gently explore your tight ass. They slip in, one knuckle at a time, until both are all the way in. I’ve got you trapped, clenching the edge of the desk so hard it’s cracking, nails brushing that sweet spot inside as I taste you. I don’t even know what people outside are thinkin’, cos your face is an inch from giving it away-”

“Lindsey, god, fuck, Lindsey!”

The ex-lawyer was so close but he couldn’t come yet; he had to see the story through. He wanted to hear Angel lose his control for real, so he held back despite the almost pain in his gut.

“Something like that, yeah. And I pump into you, striking that spot over and over, while my head’s bobbing away between your thighs, and then you just can’t hold it in. You knock half the stuff off your desk scrambling to blank out the windows and then your head snaps back with a yell, your hands tight in my hair as you’re yellin’ my name.”

It was too much. Even if they were his own words, the picture he was describing pushed Lindsey over the edge and he groaned roughly, voice breaking as he came all over his hand. His body slumped, chest heaving, as he caught the muffled yell that was Angel finally losing it six thousand miles away.

“Shit.” The vamp sighed.

“You busted?” Lindsey smirked.

“By your wicked tongue? I bet you’d love that.”

There was silence for a moment as Angel listened.

“Apparently not. Spike is a pretty heavy sleeper.”

“When will you be back?” Lindsey cursed himself for sounding so pathetic even as he asked.

“Soon, hopefully. I’ll try to cut it short since we’ve got a scene to act out.”

Lindsey grinned. “Can’t wait to see if reality is better than fantasy.”

“I guarantee it will be.”

*****

After the Burkles left, Wesley went straight to his office and shut himself in. He didn’t know if he was glad for Illyria’s trick or even more depressed than before, having that glimpse of Fred taken away. At least he knew Illyria hadn’t done it to be malicious to him. She’d stressed the whole thing was to avoid making him feel worse. Wesley tried to wrap his head around the idea that Illyria actually might be…fond of him.

“Wes?” a dainty brunette head popped through the door, “Are you like, mad at me or something?”

“You can stop now.”

“Isn’t it what you desire?” Illyria’s normal voice was full of confusion before slipping back into Fred, “I mean, you love me, I love you. What’s the big deal?”

“I loved her.” And he’s not angry, just honest.

“You loved this and part of you still does. I can feel it in you. I…wish to explore it further.”

Wesley stared at her, stunned. The god king looked uncomfortably lost, more so than usual.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Are you afraid you will forget to grieve?”

“I could never be with this…shell of Fred. It’s much more than looks, Illyria. I loved _Fred_. And no matter how much you use her memories to pretend, you cannot be her.”

She looked away quickly and he felt a strange suspicion rising in him like bile.

Illyria blinked. “But you could be with me were I not in this form?”

Something inside her changed and she transitioned back into her blue-and-maroon self.

“I don’t think so, Illyria.” He said calmly, despite the major detour this conversation had taken.

“You do not need to feel emotions for me to experience lust for my body. The shell’s memories showed me that you had an arrangement with the one named Lilah, your enemy.”

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, wondering how to explain hate sex to an immortal, ancient being.

“Illyria, why do you want to have – you know – that, with me?”

She looked almost human for a moment, eyes flicking away from his. “My world gone, my army ash. This fate is worse than death. Condemned to live out existence a shadow of what I was.”

 “And you seek connections to our world to try and make you feel more grounded? Yes?”

She didn’t answer. She was being incredibly evasive tonight for someone who was usually blunter than Spike. Wesley should probably have been more concerned Illyria was interested in sex, given that she could do some serious damage in the throes of passion. He should even have been disgusted that the thing that killed his love wanted to use her corpse for its own pleasure. But Illyria wasn’t Fred – hadn’t he just said that? It didn’t matter what she did now.

“I am sorry, Wesley.”

He almost fell over. “You what?”

“I will not take any more of your time.”

She opened a portal and walked through, but he couldn’t see where to. He was still wringing that apology over and over inside his head.


	7. Begin at the Beginning

Lindsey stiffened with a groan, mouth frozen agape as his hands kneaded Angel’s chest. His muscles went floppy and he collapsed onto the vampire’s broad torso, both of them panting hard.

“I take it you missed me.” Angel quipped.

“Could say that.”

Lindsey rolled over, wincing as Angel slid out of him. He hauled himself up on one elbow and regarded the solemn-faced vamp. There was a twinge in his stomach that had nothing to do with post-sex aches.

“Hey, what with the long face? Not up to the usual standard?”

Angel scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Lindsey looked away, tracing a finger idly over Angel’s chest. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain perky blonde in Rome, would it?”

“Spike?” Angel asked innocently, “That’s just how he is.”

“You know that’s not who I meant.”

Angel sighed. “It’s not Buffy, okay? I said I’m happy she’s out experiencing her life and that’s true. Slayers have it tough. I’ve just got some business stuff I need to think about.”

“Anything you wanna share?”

Angel kissed the top of his head. “It’s fine. I’d rather be using my mouth for something else anyway.”

He grinned wickedly and sank down under the covers, leaving the Southerner feeling strangely left out.

 

Lindsey headed back towards his room. None of the employees would make eye contact with him, hurrying past before they could be accused of fraternising with the enemy. _If only they knew_. Spike came strutting around the corner in his typical over the top style and didn’t take much notice of Lindsey either – until he came closer. The vampire stopped with one foot off the ground and turned, a huge, evil smile growing across his face.

“Wellllll. Isn’t that interesting?”

“What?” Lindsey frowned.

“You and Peaches, hey? Is this some kind of star-crossed love?”

The ex-lawyer shook his head with a sneer. “What are you talking about?”

Spike came closer and Lindsey took a step back. The Englishman kept walking until he had the human backed against the wall.

“I can smell him all over you. Part of your latest dastardly plot?”

“No. We’re actually just being friendly.” Lindsey gave the most innocent smile he could.

Spike snorted. “Yeah right. Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

He stalked away, leaving Lindsey to ponder what exactly that meant.

*****

Faith opened Gunn’s front door like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Hey guys!”

Spike smirked. “Evening pet. Brought some company, hope Charlie doesn’t mind.”

He stepped into the lounge room dragging Wesley by the arm. Illyria followed at her own solemn pace.

Gunn stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Gang’s all here! I’m making mojitos.”

Spike wiggled his fingers with glee and flopped onto the couch, leaving no room for anyone else. Faith made a bemused noise and shifted his legs, sliding in next to the vamp. Wesley perched in a chair sort of awkwardly, as if he’d forgotten how to relax. Illyria of course ignored them all and stood in the corner, possibly sulking. Gunn came forth bearing a tray of frosty glasses and sat almost in Faith’s lap.

“So anyone up for Chinese?”

By the time the food got there, they’d each had at least two cocktails and exhausted all their small talk about the office. There was a lapse into happy chewing as the white cartons got divided up and destroyed. Spike seemed to find Faith’s appetite particularly entertaining.

“What?” she demanded around a mouthful of noodles, “You lived at Buffy’s when we were swarmed with Potentials. You know how it is.”

“I’d forgotten. Glad I don’t have to feed you.”

Illyria sighed and they all turned to look, shocked she’d displayed some kind of emotion.

“When will you cease this chattering and discuss what really concerns you?”

Wesley inhaled too soon and started choking on his lemon chicken. Spike leaned over and gave him a good wallop.

“Thank you.” He wheezed, taking a huge sip of mojito and then wincing.

Faith played with her chopsticks, stabbing the bottom of her meal like it was a particularly stinky vamp. “So...Angel.”

“He’s been acting completely weird.” Gunn agreed.

“Your leader is corrupted.”

Wesley gave her a grimace and Illyria’s face softened, turning almost apologetic.

“He’s definitely losing it. All...happy. Too happy. He’s taking cases we would never have touched a month ago.” Gunn grabbed another handful of prawn crackers.

“Whatever’s going on with him we need to kick it in the ass, now. I’m not watching him go off the edge again.” Faith scowled.

Spike sniggered. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Peaches is just going through a phase.”

“For now I suggest we all keep an eye on Angel. He’s been down this path before.” Wesley glanced at Gunn, who nodded, remembering the weeks after Angel threw them out of the hotel.

“Well that’s enough seriousness for a perfectly good party. Any more rum Charlie?” Spike sprung up and headed for the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

“I’ll help him.” Wes snagged the tray off the coffee table and took the empty glasses away.

Gunn looked down at Faith. She was picking her nails intently, scowling slightly. He knew how much Angel meant to Faith, how he was the rock she’d always used as a moral anchor. He knew she’d do anything to help because she had to. But he didn’t know what would happen if Angel had really gone to the dark side.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” was the flat response.

Gunn looked at the Slayer, at the very real pain on her face. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let anything hurt her again, but she wouldn’t let him.

*****

Angel sighed and walked to the window. “Spike? It’s eleven.”

“And you’re a bloody vampire. It’s early for us.” His voice was even brasher through the phone.

“Not when I work office hours it isn’t. What do you want?”

“We’re at Charlie’s having a little get-together. Thought you and your date might want to drop by.”

“My date?” Angel’s eyes flicked to Lindsey on the couch worriedly.

“Yeah, Lindsey. Two of you should pop by.”

“Is that an invitation or a suggestion?” Angel said quietly.

“Probably for the best, mate.”

“Alright, give me twenty minutes.”

He hung up and strolled back to the half-naked man in his lounge room.

“We’ve been invited to a party.”

“Oh, anything special?”

“Just a thing at Gunn’s but apparently we can’t miss it.”

Lindsey thought for a moment, raking his fingers through his hair as he considered Angel’s face.

“You should have asked me in bed.”

Angel snickered. “Not too late?”

“I’ll do it. Wouldn’t feel right letting you face the horror alone. I’ll take one for the team, if you want me.”

“I want you Lindsey.”

The lawyer snickered at the obvious smirk on Angel’s face. “Keep that up we won’t make it to the party.”

Angel flicked his tongue over an eye-tooth hungrily, eyes roaming Lindsey’s body.

“Look at you, trouble if ever there was.”

The vamp grinned evilly. “You’re not the first to say that.”

 

The knock was barely audible over the music, but the door was open anyway. Angel took in the scene with raised brows. Gunn and Faith were dancing slowly to some rock song he remembered being big in the ‘80s. Illyria sat stiffly on the couch between Wesley and Spike, being taught a drinking game. It looked like she was faring better than the boys from the empty spirit bottles on the coffee table and the general swaying. Spike noticed them and sat up.

“Peaches!”

“Angel? What are you doing here?” Gunn frowned.

“Spike invited me.”

The younger man looked guilty. “Look man, I should have asked you earlier, just...Lindsey? Is that Lindsey?”

Wesley’s eyes narrowed intently. “I believe so.”

“Lady, gents and god king – let me introduce you to the reason Angel has been acting so out of character!” Spike did a fake trumpet fanfare.

Faith gawped. “What?”

“Spike...” Angel swore under his breath as the platinum-haired vamp dissolved into great guffaws.

 “They’re only screwing is all.” He finally straightened up.

The group stared at Lindsey. Gunn looked positively horrified.

“Gross! You’re bumping uglies with the enemy?”

Faith wrinkled her nose before smiling as big as Spike. “Good work, Angelman.”

“They’re snug as two peas.” Spike sniggered

Lindsey sighed. “Yes, alright, we are occasionally doing the sex thing. Doesn’t mean we tell each other all our hopes and dreams. We don’t exactly talk, Spikey. Angel’s very goal-orientated - you should remember that.”

Spike’s expression soured and Faith took a step closer, just in case he decided to beat the crap out of their boss’ new boytoy.

“Lindsey it’s okay. Spike brought us here to get it out in the open. He’s trying to help.” Angel laid a hand on his shoulder, fixing Spike with a look.

“So you’re...dating?” Wesley peered out from under thick brows.

“Not really.” Angel shrugged.

“Come in and have a drink!” Spike offered a bottle, realised it was empty, and found another.

Lindsey hurried over. “I could use it.”

“That’s all we’re gonna say?” Gunn looked from face to face.

Faith shrugged. “If I freaked out every apocalypse, I’d have had a nervous breakdown years ago.”

Wesley clinked his glass against the table. “Well said!”

Angel wandered over to Gunn. “You’re uh, you’ll be okay with this right? I mean, it’s not like he’s my...whatever, uh, we’re just...I dunno.”

“Yeah yeah, I get it. It’s not serious so you don’t need friend approval but it’s Lindsey so everything’s complicated,” Gunn snorted, “Man is it complicated. You really know how to pick ‘em boss.”

“Yeah.” Angel nodded, glancing at the brunette who’d joined the drinking game.

“I say, if it gives you something to look forward to during the long, horrible days at that office, then it’s all good.”

“Thanks.”

“Now how ‘bout you go on a liquor run? We’re running dry here.”

*****

“Are you alright?”

Illyria regarded him. “More so than you. You are intoxicated, Wesley.”

“Very much so, and with good cause.”

“The others are equally buffoonish.”

He looked around at their teammates laughing and dancing. “Rather. Still, bet this beats the Deeper Well, eh?”

She recoiled, eyes turning murderous. He felt a twinge of protectiveness, like he wanted to reassure her no one was taking her back. _Though of course, she belongs there_.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Let’s just be Wesley and Illyria and try to enjoy ourselves.”

She raised a brow. “We are not well known for that.”

He smirked. “You’re right.”

“I should take you home.”

“Pr’bly.”

She opened a portal and took his arm.

“Think you could wave me up one of those, Blue? Beats taking a cab.” Spike called.

She ignored him and stepped through into Wesley’s apartment, dragging the drunk mystic with her.

“You know, that’s really a strange feeling.” He wavered in her grip.

‘’You require rest and rehydration.” She bullied him towards the bed.

“If you say so.” Wesley stood by the mattress like he’d forgotten what it was for.

Illyria gently removed his jacket and pushed him by the shoulders until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. She knelt and removed his shoes before pushing him backwards.

“Why do you try to take care of me?” Wes slurred.

“You are my guide. You must remain intact and able to fulfil your duties.”

“I don’t think that’s it. I think you like me.”

“A human? You are not fit to draw my wrath, let alone my companionship.” She scowled.

“Nope, nope, nope, you like me. I can tell. It’s all an act.”

Illyria was very glad he wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning. She turned to go to her corner when he surged out and grabbed her arm.

“Stay.”

“I do not take orders from you, mortal!” she snapped.

“No, please, just come back?”

He looked so wistful she cursed in a foul demon tongue and sat on the mattress beside him uncomfortably. Wesley patted her hand.

“I’ve become sort of fond of you.”

Illyria didn’t respond, hoping he would pass out now, but instead he leaned forward and kissed her. The god king jumped up, backing away.

“What is this, Wesley?”

“I dunno, just...giving you what you wanted.”

“You are inebriated. Your judgement is clouded.”

He shrugged sadly. “Sorry. I thought you wanted this.”

“But you do not. You would resent me if I took something offered in a moment of false affection.”

He drooped. “I’m sorry. Just, come back please? Let’s just sleep.”

She eyed him warily but he lay back, moving to create a space for her beside him. She sunk onto the bed with muscles poised to run again but he only tugged her into his arms and closed his eyes.

“Good night, ‘Lyria.”

“Good night Wesley.”

*****

When Wesley woke up, he felt like someone had taken a cleaver to his head. He groaned and rolled over, almost falling off the mattress. When he wrenched his eyes open, squinting against the light, he found a glass of water and two aspirin on the bedside table. There was no sign of Illyria though, and for a moment he panicked that she was out making mischief before he remembered she wasn’t particularly evil these days. He dragged himself up so he was sitting and took the pills, downing the whole glass as his stomach gurgled in complaint. But the pain-killers eased his head somewhat, enough that he started to remember the night before. They’d been drinking at Gunn’s, then Angel showed up...with Lindsey? And then he’d come back here and-

Wes almost shrieked as he realised he’d tried to proposition Illyria. The details were fuzzy but he distinctly recalled kissing her. It was horrifying, guilt-inducing, awful and wrong (not to mention the kiss itself being a drunken sloppy mess). He rolled back into his covers and resolved to never ever go back to the office again.

 

He found her in the training room, pounding computer-generated opponents into the floor as a hungover Spike watched from the bench.

“Morning Wes.” The vamp droned.

Illyria snapped to attention, her rivals freezing in place as she watched Wes cautiously. He rubbed the back of his head and cleared his throat.

“Uh Illyria, can I speak to you for a moment?”

She tilted her head and nodded, following him out into the hall. He checked they were alone and took a deep breath.

“Listen, about last night...you haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“No. I considered sharing my thoughts with Spike, because he seems knowledgeable in these matters, but he was in no condition to help me. Also I am not sure he can be trusted, since he betrayed your leader last night.”

“Yes, uh, Spike means well. I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

“Why would we be ill, Wesley?”

“I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“I am sure I did not.”

Her voice was so cold, but he couldn’t tell if it was normal disdain or something extra.

“I remember that you said no, and I wanted to say thank you.”

She frowned. “I could not take advantage of your weakness and leave you with regret and resentment. I fear the shell’s feelings for you have contaminated me. I am not as I was.”

“I’m sorry if it makes you feel even more disorientated.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Wesley. I will adapt.”

 

She stormed away and he watched her, puzzled by the sudden change but not in any condition to chase her. He ambled back into the training room and slid onto the bench beside Spike.

“Urgh.”

“I know what you mean, mate.”

“No, it’s not the hangover – though thank you for that Spike, with your rum.”

“My pleasure.”

“It’s Illyria. I was...I feel...I’m not sure anymore.”

Spike lifted his head carefully. “You don’t have feelings for her?”

“Would it be terrible if I did?”

The vampire shrugged. “Don’t ask me mate. I fell for a Slayer, enemy of my kind. But Blue’s come a long way. She’s got a lot of good qualities now she’s not trying to dominate our civilisation.”

“Yes, she can be quite kind and thoughtful when she wants to be.”

“And I’d say if you liked her, it’s nobody’s business but you and her.”

Wesley leaned back against the wall and chuckled. “She said you were good to talk to.”

“Yeah? Well we’ve had some heart-to-hearts.” Spike shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

Wesley raised a brow but didn’t break the silence.

“Look, Wes, I should be honest. I wasn’t going to tell anyone but maybe it’ll help.”

“Should I be afraid?”

“A while back, before Faith came to town, Illyria popped into my lounge room one night for a chat.”

“About what?”

“You. ‘Bout why you hated her, why you were so upset all the time but didn’t send her away. I got the feeling she felt a bit hurt about it, actually.”

He paused and cleared his throat.

“And um, then she asked me to teach her some things, and I probably should have said no but...”

“What sort of things?” Wesley’s eyes narrowed.

“Sex things.”

“You slept with her.”

“Yeah.”

Wesley felt a rushing fury, a possessive rage that surprised him. For a moment he thought it was the implication Spike had wanted to sleep with Fred, but he knew that wasn’t true. Spike had been around long before they got together and never made a move. So was this jealousy for Illyria? Why should he be jealous? _I mean, regardless of Spike she still asked me. She didn’t go back to him for more. Who cares if he was first? Not that I want Illyria anyway – oh Christ, who am I kidding?_

“My feelings for Illyria are very complicated. Large parts of me still mourn Fred, and probably always will. But those feelings have detached themselves from Illyria so that I don’t hate her. She did not choose Fred as her vessel, she did not intentionally destroy her.”

“S’right. All pre-arranged thousands of years ago.”

“And she has grown in her time here, changed.”

“Yeah. So what are you gonna do about it?”

*****

Wesley waited in his office, knowing she’d eventually come to him. She shuffled in around five, moving so quietly he almost didn’t notice her until she was standing by the desk.

“Ah, Illyria. I was hoping you’d stop by soon.”

“Why?” she scowled.

“I wanted to extend your lessons a bit. Until now I haven’t been in a very sociable mood, and we’ve been confined to either the office or apartments or fights in dismal places. How would you like to go out for dinner?”

“Among people?” she glanced down at herself, “My appearance will attract undue attention.”

“You can change it though, yes?” he prodded.

She looked almost disappointed for a moment before altering her form to Fred’s curls and pale skin.

“Is this what you want of me?”

Wesley stood and walked around the desk, shaking his head. “No. Don’t be Fred. You can be anyone you want so long as it’s you.”

Illyria looked uncertain. “I should be me?”

“Yes. Just a less conspicuous version, so we can get around without too many questions. Anything you want.”

She seemed to take a long while to think about it, watching him the whole time. He waited patiently, rocking a little with his hands in his pockets. Finally the Fred guise shifted and changed. Illyria’s skin was darker, an olive shade, her hair black and straight to her hips. Her eyes were a deep green. She still had Fred’s basic shape and features, but the colouring was enough to make a difference. Her jeans were black and tight and her shirt a deep green button-down that was open to the cleavage and emphasised her slight curves. It was just a tad too racy to be from Fred’s memories.

“Dipping into Faith’s wardrobe?” Wesley raised a brow.

“Does it suit me?” she asked with a smile so small he couldn’t be sure it was even there.

“Lovely. I thought we’d start with Mexican, then work our way through the other cuisines.”

She looked doubtful. “These are foods of your human cultures?”

“Give them a chance – if you can eat a petri dish, you can enjoy nachos.”

 

Wesley was almost nervous as they sat in the booth. It wasn’t even a real date, but he was anxious to keep Illyria entertained. She was looking around without interest, just a speculative manner that implied she was drinking it all in and trying to compute it against what she already knew.

“This Mexico is a territory near here?”

“Yes, about a hundred and forty miles south of L.A.”

She nodded, examining the walls further while he tried to think up conversation. The problem was with Fred’s memories she already knew all his stories, and he wasn’t exactly eager to start asking her about what it was like in her time. Tales of battles and evisceration were not going to help his digestion. He twiddled his thumbs while she read the menu.

“Any of it sound good?”

Illyria shrugged. “I do not know. You shall order for me.”

“Alright.”

“Wesley, what is the meaning of this meal?”

“Uh, well dinner’s sort of the biggest of the day really, since most people don’t have time for a big breakfast or lunch-”

“That is not what I meant. The shell has many memories of going out for dinner with men. Some of them led to acts of passion. Is that what this is?”

Wesley sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I will be honest, Illyria. I would like this to be a date.”

“A date,” she repeated it, weighing up the word, “Do we require such courting behaviour?”

“Probably not, given the situation, but I thought it might be fun.”

She regarded him quietly, as a child examines something new. “Do you wish to engage in acts of passion with me?”

“Eventually, yes.” Wes cringed. He’d never been called so outright on his intentions before, even with Lilah.

Illyria nodded as she mulled it over. “Very well. Let us ‘date’.”

He grinned. “Shall we start with drinks?”


	8. If Everybody Minded Their Own Business, The World Would Go Around a Great Deal Faster than it Does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or how various people found out about Wesley and Illyria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude before the finale

1.

Spike already knew, of course. He’d started the whole thing in the first place, really started it long before Wes even knew he might develop feelings for the god king, long before Illyria was capable of feeling at all. When he saw them sneaking a quiet kiss in Wesley’s office, he just whooped and threw a big wink before strutting away.

“That vampire is insufferable.” Illyria muttered.

Wes readjusted his glasses. “Yes, I like him too.”

 

2.

“What?!”

Wesley fully expected to see a big black fist swinging towards him, but Illyria’s hand raised warningly and Gunn seemed to reconsider.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand – most of the time I don’t even understand it – but it happened. And I’m glad it did.”

“You replaced Fred with the thing that killed her!” Charles spat.

“You know me better than that.” Wes whispered.

It deflated Gunn’s anger a bit, and when he met Illyria’s eyes and saw the almost beseeching look there the rest of it faded too. He wasn’t exactly blameless in the whole thing.

“I’m not gonna pretend to get it, but whatever man.”

Wes knew that was as good as it was gonna get.

 

3.

Wes was absentmindedly sorting some memos for Angel to go over at Harmony’s desk, distracted by the memory of how stunning Illyria had looked over dinner the night before. Lorne swerved across the lobby and nudged him in the ribs.

“Good for you.”

“What?”

“You were humming, lambikins. I haven’t heard a tune like that from you in a good long time.”

“You’re not...”

“Surprised? Disgusted? Outraged? Nah,” Lorne waved a taloned hand, “Ex-demon karaoke bar owner. I witnessed much worse.”

 

4.

Angel had the pleasure of walking in on them during a particularly heated moment in the file room.

“Oh! Ah, sorry, uh, I was just looking for the files – you know, what with the cabinets and stuff, so uh, I’ll go now.”

Wesley hitched up his trousers with a grunt as Illyria conjured back her clothes. “Angel, wait.”

“No need to explain Wes. You and your, uh, friend,” he glanced over and paused, “Wait...Illyria?”

“Wesley is mine now.” She wrapped an arm possessively around Wes’ waist.

“Yeah, okay.” Angel regarded Wes strangely.

“Angel is this going to be a problem?”

“Can’t see why it would be.”  The vampire smiled awkwardly.

“Then can we discuss it later?”

“Ah sure, okay, I’ll leave you guys to uh...I’ll leave you guys.”

He closed the door quickly and Illyria sighed. “Now we must start again.”

“Is that a problem?” Wes raised a brow.

“No. It is just tiresome to be interrupted.”

He pushed her back against the cabinets, hands on her thighs. “So I’m yours now, am I?”

“I had to put it in words the vampire would understand.”

“Of course.”

 

5.

“So, are you and Illyria like, going steady?”

Wes rolled his eyes at Harmony. “Where did you hear a thing like that?”

“Angel. He came in all spooked and muttering. So you’re really an item?”

“That is not something I want added to the company gossip, Harmony.”

She mimed zipping her lips. “No one will hear it from me, boss.”

 

6.

“So you and the Old One, huh?”

“For god’s sake, who told you?”

“Harmony.” Lindsey smirked.

Wesley cursed under his breath. “Bloody soulless vampire.”

“Bet she’s a wild ride.”

“Forgive me if I’m not terribly interested in discussing it with you.”

“Ah come on! I’ll tell you about me and Angel.”

“Not interested.”

“You know, I can relate to the whole supernatural partner thing. The being dominated?”

“Still not interested.” Wes said louder.

“Being held down til you’re bruised and-”

“NOT INTERESTED.”

“God, some mornings I just ache from head to-”

Wesley ran back to his office and locked the door.

 

7.

Faith passed him in the hall and offered her hand. He frowned at it.

“You slap it, Wes. Called a high-five, widely accepted cultural standard?”

“Oh,” he high-fived her, “What’s it for?”

“Gunn told me. And then Lindsey told me, and Harmony, and Angel actually looked like he was gonna cry when I mentioned it to him.”

Wes groaned. “This is supposed to be a _formerly_ evil law firm.”

“Good job Wes.”

“Thank you?” his face crinkled uncertainly.

“Any time.”


	9. Adventures in Wonderland

_*3 months later*_

“That’s it for today guys. See you in the morning.”

At Angel’s dismissal they adjourned, leaving the board room in a flurry of papers and chatter. Wes headed straight for his office to drop off his books, eager to get home. He opened the door to find home sitting on his desk, crystal eyes regarding him peevishly.

“I grew tired of waiting.” Illyria drawled.

“Sorry. Meeting ran over.” he threw the volumes on a chair haphazardly.

Her long black hair was loose around blue-tinged shoulders and she wore an indecently short nightgown, red-wine satin stuck to her curves.

“You must make it up to me. Is that not the custom?”

“Indeed.”

He unbuttoned his shirt as he crossed to the desk. Illyria waited with her usual head tilt, eyeing his torso hungrily. He stopped in front of her and their eyes met as hands reached out and wrapped around each other.

“Tell Angel if he keeps you so long again, he shall taste my wrath.”

“I’ll pass on the message.”

She kissed him hard, lips demanding as her legs wrapped around his waist. As always she was careful not to squeeze too hard, something he was eternally grateful for. One false move in the throes of passion and she could break every bone in his body.

“Hurry, Wesley.” She breathed, hands running down the small of his back.

Somehow he got his pants off with her still clamped around him, though the nails dragging down his ribs and the nipping at his earlobe didn’t help. He rubbed his hard length against her centre and she purred, head rolling back.

“More.”

He ran a hand up her back and used the other to guide himself into her already-slick core. Illyria crooned and dug her nails into his shoulders. Wesley captured her lips again as he lowered her to the desk, her back against a pile of manila folders. It wasn’t elegant or comfortable but neither of them cared as he thrust into her, the god king moaning as she clung to his torso. Wesley pounded her into the desk, scattering things as he bit her shoulders and neck hard. No matter what, he never seemed to break the skin or bruise her. That invulnerability was unfortunately one-way though, and he could tell he’d had thigh-shaped marks on his hips tomorrow. Illyria rocked upwards, the desk complaining as it shifted with their weight, sweat spreading over Wesley’s whole body. The god king moaned breathily and cried out, pressing herself to him closer. He knew what she wanted; had seen it enough times by now. Wes reached down and flicked her clit with his thick thumb, sending her into a shrieking full-body shudder that might have terrified an unprepared man. He just held on as she jerked and twitched, her internal muscles squeezing him to his climax as her limbs tightened around him dangerously. Wes groaned and dropped his head to her chest, panting as she relaxed and released him.

“Wes, you still...here?”

Illyria’s top half was clothed in an instant, but Wesley was not so lucky. He turned to glare at the intruder with his bare ass still on display. Spike just stared with a frozen grin.

“Can I help you?”

“Dunno, maybe,” The vampire smirked, “Think you’ve got another one in ya.”

Illyria’s eyes narrowed. “I do not share.”

“She really doesn’t. Kindly get out before one of us turns you into a toad.”

Spike held up his hands defensively. “Hey, no need for that! Just came to invite you down the pub, but I see you’re busy. Carry on.”

He flounced out whistling, leaving the door wide open. Wesley sighed.

“Fancy a drink?”

Illyria tilted her head, eyes on his chest. “I am not finished enjoying you.”

“Well as flattering as that is, us human males need some recovery time.” Wes retrieved his pants.

“Very well. One drink.”

He met her determined look with a smile. “Yes, one.”

*****

“Ready to go?” Faith leaned in the doorway, flexing her fingers.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here.” Gunn raised a brow as he finished lacing up his sneakers.

“Ooh, whatcha gonna do, tell Angel I was in the empty locker room?” she said mockingly.

A tall red demon in nothing but a towel walked out from the showers and Faith stopped.

“Wow, there actually are other people here. I’ll uh, I’ll wait outside.”

“Good idea.” Gunn snorted.

The blushing brunette hurried out and he slung the last of his stuff in his bag before joining her.

“Should have seen your face.” He chuckled as they took the lift down to the garage.

“You knew he was there?”

“Course. Late night squash for our nocturnal employees.”

Faith shook her head. “No matter how much I see, I still forget how weird this place is.”

“Is it though? I mean, for us?”

“Guess not.” She shrugged as they stepped out and headed for Gunn’s shiny company car. He threw his clothes in the back seat and popped the trunk, revealing a mobile arsenal of axes, blades, stakes and a miniature flame thrower.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m feelin’ old school tonight.” She grabbed a mace, tossing it from hand to hand like it weighed nothing.

That was one thing he’d learned fast from patrolling – hell, just being _around_ her – Faith was an actual Slayer. People said it all the time, but there was a tendency to forget what that meant. He’d never be as strong, or as fast, or heal as easily, or love the fight as much. She got riled up after a good kill in ways he didn’t quite get. But he didn’t care. He’d put the inferiority complex to rest years ago, and now he was just glad he got to watch her back.

“I’m thinkin’ bar fight.” He grabbed a broken pool cue.

“Maybe we should head out then. Find a big club where the vamps are plentiful and the crowd are drunk, young and stupid?”

“Miss Lehane, this isn’t some ploy to get me on the dance floor is it?”

She winked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright, but if we end up just dancing for five minutes and then racing home again, you’re paying the speeding ticket this time.”

 

Faith had waved off Buffy’s offer of a small salary. The Council had some funds for Slayers but she didn’t know where they came from and it wasn’t much.

“Keep it,” she’d told the blonde, “The others need it more. I can get a job.”

Which she promptly had, with Angel, only they hadn’t told Buffy that part. The pay was enough that she and Gunn had found a place together in a nice neighbourhood with enough space to build her a proper training room, so she didn’t have to use the Wolfram & Hart facilities all the time. They could have bought somewhere, but neither of them were really the settling-down type, so the suggestion went unsaid.

Faith didn’t have nightmares much, but she liked having Charles there for the rare nights she woke up screaming. She liked patrolling with him and not having to worry too much about him getting hurt, since he’d been fighting as long as her and with less resources. She liked that he never mentioned kids, or marriage, or jail, or torture. She liked that he didn’t mention family, since neither of them had one outside Angel and their teammates. She liked that he knew the exact heart-wrenching feeling of loss, of people close to you dying, of betrayal, of not being able to trust anything but yourself and sometimes not even that. She liked that he was so L.A, so the opposite of Boston and Sunnydale and everywhere in between. He had some of the same drive; he needed the slay, not as much maybe, but he still felt the cravings in his muscles. He’d never ask her to give it up. Sometimes, in her darkest moments, when she felt a spike of doubt in her own resolve, she’d ask him.

“Do you ever worry I’ll go bad again? Become what I was before?”

And he always just kissed her forehead and said “No.”

She liked that.

*****

Angel stopped in his office to put his notes away, checking everything was finished for the night. Lindsey waited by the elevator doors patiently.

“I think Spike wanted to go out.”

Angel shrugged one shoulder. “Good luck to him. Faith and Gunn will be patrolling and I think Wes would rather be at home.”

“We could go with him.” The Southerner suggested.

Angel paused, hands stilling on the papers as he looked up. “You really wanna go drinking with Spike?”

“He’s not so bad. Tells me the most interesting stories about you.” Lindsey said innocently.

“I’ll bet.”

“Come on! We can veg in front of the TV any night. Let’s go have a drink, play some darts, try to get kicked out.”

“And then come back here and screw til sunrise?”

“Exactly.” Lindsey beamed.

Angel sighed. “Alright. Let me change first though.”

 

Spike grumbled a bit about being stuck with Angel, but it was only for show. As predicted Guun and Faith had bailed, but surprisingly Wes and Illyria were there. Angel still couldn’t get used to seeing Illyria in her human disguise. She looked almost like a Latina Fred and dressed like Faith, and she doted on Wesley when she thought no one was looking. He could smell the sex on them. _Good for Wes_.

“First round’s on Angel.” Spike pulled out a shiny company card as they entered.

“Isn’t every round usually on Angel?” Lindsey joked.

“Course. That’s what he’s for.” Spike scoffed, as if it was obvious.

He strolled to the bar as they settled into a booth. The place was quiet, not too crowded and very old-fashioned. It was fast becoming their regular haunt because Angel and Spike had no patience for the trendy bars at the office. Lindsey liked to tease him about being an old man, but Angel just couldn’t deal with watching his employees ‘network’. It was bad enough working with them.

“Fancy a game?” Wesley nodded towards the dartboard.

Lindsey shook his head. “Maybe after you’ve had a few drinks. I don’t enjoy getting my ass handed to me by two supernaturally accurate beings and Spike.”

“Hey!” the blond exclaimed as he sat down, “I’m great at darts!”

“You’re better at pool.” Angel grinned.

Spike clutched his chest in outrage. “What? I’ll make you eat those words, Peaches. You and me, right now.”

The dark vampire sighed but he was smiling. “Alright. Prepare that ego for a bruising.”

“Worry about your own, Captain Forehead!”

They got up and went to set up the game, nudging each other with friendly animosity. Lindsey wasn’t sure he’d ever get the hang of their relationship. They drove each other crazy, but they did like each other though they’d never admit it. They were like brothers, Angel the responsible older one and Spike always trying to get under his skin. Angel had told him lots of stories about Spike from their time as a foursome, and since their Sunnydale reunion. Some were sad and some were hilarious and some made Lindsey wince with their brutality, but overall it seemed they got along well enough when they weren’t pretending to hate each other.

“We’re not staying long, so it looks like we’ll have to skip the darts.” Wes said.

Lindsey could see him holding hands with Illyria under the table, discreet as always. It was incredibly sweet watching the two try to wrangle their way through Illyria’s odd moments, and he was glad they were getting there.

“That’s a shame. I’ll just have to console the loser by letting him kick my ass.” He nodded towards the vampires. Spike was cackling evilly as his shot landed dead in the centre of the board, and from Angel’s rising dark look, the game was gonna get ugly.

“Who do you think’ll win?”

Illyria’s answer was said matter-of-fact. “Spike. He has more heart; he has more to prove.”

“But Angel always gets riled up when they compete. He secretly can’t stand to let Spike win.”

Wes nodded. “I think they have some serious unresolved issues.”

Lindsey half-laughed as a waitress came over with their drinks. “Don’t we all?”

 

Wes practically drained his glass in one go, Illyria watching him. She never drank, something Lindsey didn’t quite understand. All the demons he’d met went in for serious partying, even Angel on occasion, but the god king never really let loose. Maybe it was a different story when she and Wes were alone. _Maybe I don’t want to think about that image anymore_. They took their leave and headed off, abandoning him to face the outcome of the darts alone.

“Ha! Ahahaha, now who’s crap at darts Pop!”

 _And if that isn’t the epitome of their problems right there_. Lindsey regarded Angel wearily, but he didn’t look too stormy, just resigned.

“Congratulations Spike. Once again you are the sorest winner in history.”

“Well that’s just exaggerating.” Spike huffed as they made their way back to the table.

“Where are the others?”

“Gone back to Wes’.”

“I don’t know how he ever makes it into the office some times, keeping up with her.” Spike smirked.

“What’s your excuse?” Angel sipped his whiskey and smiled.

“I’m still more comfortable sleeping through the morning.” Spike looked contrite.

“I know what you mean. Necro-glass or not, I can’t get used to walking around in the day.”

“It’s definitely an L.A. thing. I never did this much daytime in Sunnydale.”

“When I first got turned, I was so excited about everything. Took me a long while to miss the sun, maybe not til I was cursed. Darla always kept me so distracted with her whims I forgot I could barely remember it.”

“I know what you mean. Dru was such hard work a lot of the time, and I was so caught up with being in love with her, that I didn’t really miss it. And now I prefer the dark anyways, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You should be grateful Lindsey, for something so basic as the sun.” Angel finished his drink, mood much darker than after Spike’s victory.

Both vamps had turned a bit morose, and Lindsey jumped into action.

“Let’s get another round. Anyone up for shots?”

“No.” Angel muttered.

“Too bad.”

 

Lorne had never tried to reopen _Caritas_ after the last round of destruction, but he hadn’t given up on the idea completely. There was a little joint hidden in the extensive Wolfram  & Hart property listings, a karaoke and cabaret bar that accepted all comers. Lorne might not have had the time to be as hands-on as before, but he still evidently needed a sanctuary to run back to now and then. Lindsey leaned back on the bar and snickered at the vampires currently on stage belting out ‘My Way’ with arms around each other’s waist. They were drunk and that was an achievement. Took a lot of shots to get vamps that pissed, and he’d forced Angel through the first third of them. Spike never needed encouragement to drink.

They rambled out the last line and Angel thrust his hand with the mike up, Spike bowing clumsily. The assorted crowd clapped and they got a few whistles, tottering off stage with huge smiles.

“Was that fun?” Lindsey grinned.

“This place is tops!” Spike ditched his duster, throwing it onto the bar.

“I never remember you being able to sing so well.” Angel pointed an accusing finger at the blond, swaying.

“Something wrong with your ears then, mate. I’m brilliant.”

Lindsey burst out laughing.

“You’re both terrible. Now, who wants another drink?”

Angel’s eyes glazed over and he shook his hand. “No, no, no more.”

“Oh come on, you old mick.” Spike punched him in the shoulder affectionately and almost knocked Angel off his feet.

“Old mick?” he rounded, fists clenched, “Rich coming from you, English.”

Spike chuckled sinisterly, licking the corner of his mouth. Lindsey got up.

“Hey guys, let’s not get into this here, okay? Demon bar brawl is not on my to-do list tonight.”

“Outside then. We’ll see who comes out on top this time, paddy.”

“Oh we will!”

“Right!”

They both turned and headed outside, leaving Lindsey to grab Spike’s coat and his own jacket and race after them.

 

They were already across the road in a small playground, fists raised as they stared at each other unsteadily.

“Ready to get whooped again, Grandpa?”

“You oughta respect your elders, sonny. Might force a thing or two inta that thick head.”

The Irish was coming through strong now, whether because Angel was drunk or because Spike just made him revert back to it by force of habit. Lindsey had no idea what he was supposed to do – break it up before they hurt each other? Let them get it out of their system? The problem was he wasn’t sure he even could break up a vamp fight. To be honest he was tempted to just let them go for it since it didn’t seem too serious; neither of them had brought up women and he knew that was always the real trouble between them. They’d probably take a few sings and pass out.

“I’ve got some moves you’ve never seen.” Spike shifted his feet, trying to hop like a boxer and only succeeding in almost tripping.

Angel doubled over laughing. “Oh, I’m sure. They look dangerous.”

Spike growled and lunged, tackling the bigger man to the grass. Angel kept laughing, rolling them over and over as they threw punches that barely made contact. Lindsey sat under a tree as they continued to basically tickle each other to death.

“That...all ya got...potato-lover?”

“Haven’t even started, nancy boy!”

“Nancy boy?”

This was followed by an outraged yell and Spike kicked Angel off him, straddling the vamp before he could recover and pounding his fists into his face and chest. Lindsey got up quickly. Whether Angel could defend himself or not, he wasn’t just gonna sit there and watch Spike pummel that pretty face. But Angel just laughed louder, and the sound seemed to take some of the wind out of Spike’s sails. He slowed and then stopped, hands coming to rest in his lap as he chuckled half-heartedly.

“Stupid git.”

“Oh William, you never change.”

They were smiling at each other now, eyes not so bleary. Spike looked over the small cuts on Angel’s face, and his eyes flicked to Angel’s in a silent question.

“Go on.”

Lindsey had no idea what was going on until Spike leaned down and licked the wounds. The blond groaned, carefully cleaning each scratch with bright eyes. Angel rubbed big hands over the small vamp’s thighs soothingly. When Spike had finished he just kept on licking, lips crashing against Angel’s as they gripped each other tightly.

“Uh guys?...” Lindsey stared as the two black-clad men started grinding against each other in the middle of a park.

“GUYS!”

Two guilty heads turned to look at him, their owners still glued together.

“Maybe we should take this elsewhere?”

They seemed to take a really long time to process that, gaze wandering.

Angel nodded. “Alright. Taxi?”

“My place?” Spike asked.

“Don’t make me laugh. That bed won’t hold the three of us.”

“Three of us?” Lindsey interrupted.

“Well yeah, Lindsey. Obviously you’re invited.” Spike looked over groggily.

“Um...I guess I just assumed this was a vamp thing.”

“Thought you liked that.” Angel winked.

Lindsey took a deep breath and threw his hands up in defeat. “What the hell? Angel’s it is then.”

 

He tried to make them keep their hands to themselves in the cab but Spike told him to sod off and Angel said the driver could deal with it or else. Lindsey knew he was drunk enough to actually follow up on that ‘else’ a little, so he relented and dove into the squirming, clashing pit of limbs in the back seat. Despite how much they’d had to drink the vamps were still considerate, handling him gently compared to the bruises he could already see rising under their pale skin. Angel kissed him, and then Spike, and he found himself making a comparison they’d probably struggled with since they met. _But it’s impossible not to compare them_ , he justified, _Drusilla and Buffy and all the other girls couldn’t avoid it_. They were just so different and still so the same. Spike was lean and smaller, with long slender fingers and wickedly sharp cheekbones, but he was just as cold and pale and muscular as Angel. They moved differently, Angel taking up space with a deliberateness that made it clear he was boss, while Spike was smooth and sneaky and spry. Hands pawed at him and Lindsey reached out blindly, groping whatever fell into reach. The cab pulled up outside Wolfram  & Hart and Angel threw a fifty at the driver and practically dragged the other two out.

The sex had given them both a new sense of sobriety or purpose, eyes burning as they hurried Lindsey into the building. They took the elevator up to Angel’s floor without touching, just staring at the doors like it was another day at the office. Lindsey was seriously confused by the way they seemed to shift from fighting to raging desire to complete normality, but then they were demons. He knew even Angel was uncontrollably passionate under the tough exterior.

The doors opened and Angel led the way, peeling off to fiddle with his stereo while Spike headed straight for the bedroom.

“No Manilow!” he yelled.

“My apartment, my music!” Angel retorted.

“And I’m not fucking to that poncy shit!”

Lindsey hovered uncertainly for a moment before deciding he should stay with Angel, since he wasn’t quite sure what the rules were in this situation. He sauntered over.

“What are you putting on?”

“You’ll see. Go get comfortable with Spike.” Angel smiled.

Lindsey shrugged and kicked off his shoes, heading to the bedroom. He froze in the doorway. Spike was already topless, his boots and clothes spread across the carpet. The silver chain stood out on his milky chest and his stomach was incredibly well-muscled, worn black jeans cutting off the view as the vamp lay on the bed idly.

“Take a photo, it’ll last longer.” It was said without any annoyance, just the trademark smirk.

“I just might. Would you show up in it?” Lindsey took his shirt off.

Depeche Mode flowed in loudly from the lounge room, not boppy pop stuff but one of their slow songs with the bass heavy and thick. Spike smiled wider.

“See? He pretends not to care but really the arse knows exactly what I like.”

Lindsey crawled onto the bed as he heard Angel come in. He didn’t look though, too intent on pressing his lips to Spike’s again. The vamp immediately stopped joking, wrapping a hand in Lindsey’s hair as his tongue did terrible, devastating things in the Southerner’s mouth. He was going to be ruined for humans altogether after tonight, he could already tell.

 

Angel watched the two men making out as he unbuttoned his shirt. The room was dark but it made no difference to him. He lost his slacks and climbed up beside the pair carefully, hand trailing over their bare torsos as he went. Lindsey broke away, turning his mouth to meet Angel’s as Spike leaned forward and kissed his chest. Lindsey noticed the already swollen flesh pointing at him between Angel’s legs and grinned.

“Someone’s eager.”

“I don’t understand why either of you still have pants on.”

Spike grinned and unzipped his jeans, wiggling out of them quickly. “Your turn.”

Lindsey shook his head. “Is the no underwear a vampire thing in general, or just cos you two are dirty old men?”

Angel frowned. “Underwear wasn’t really around back then.”

“Or it was terribly uncomfortable and complicated. I prefer easy access.” Spike winked.

Lindsey was focused on the newly-unveiled areas of Spike. His legs were almost feminine, long and thin and pale and almost hairless. And his little Spike was not so little – nothing like the older vampire’s in width, but still a decent length. Lindsey could work with that. Angel was fussing with the zip on Lindsey’s jeans while Spike grabbed the waistband and hauled them off, taking the underwear too. The three of them fell back into place in a contrast of temperatures, Lindsey’s flushed skin cooled on both sides. Spike kissed him again while Angel nipped at his shoulders. Then as the music and the alcohol took over, Lindsey stopped noticing who was who. Hands touched him, mouths tore at his skin with kisses and nips and bites, and he touched blindly and eagerly too. At one point he was sucking on a thick, rigid cock; then he was clutching at the sheets while soft, slick fingers tugged his erection. He was swept along in it, biting and tasting and feeling and listening to the low chuckles and moans of the other men, being surrounded by them. It was chaos in the dark and Lindsey fucking loved it.

The next he knew Lindsey was flat on his back, Spike hovering over him. The vamp bit into his wrist and coated his fingers with the thick blood. He slid one into Lindsey carefully, tongue lathing first one nipple and then the other as he worked to stretch the human out. He added another, and then a third quickly, Lindsey wincing as his muscles gave to make room. Spike just kept stroking, the constant pressure fading as his nails scraped Lindsey’s prostate and the man hissed, bucking up to meet the contact.

“Ready?”

“Hurry up about it, I don’t like to be teased.”

Spike smiled, teeth dazzling white in the darkness. “It can be the best part.”

But he sat back and bit his arm again, slathering his cock until it was completely red. He lined up and pushed gently against Lindsey’s entrance, squirming in a little at a time. Lindsey gasped and grabbed at Spike’s shoulder blades, pressing the vamp’s face into his neck as he slid all the way in.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I think so.” Lindsey felt stretched out sure, but it was nothing compared to Angel. He adjusted quickly and then got impatient, wiggling.

“You asked for it.” Spike said gleefully, slamming into him.

Lindsey howled and held on tighter while Spike took up the rhythm, hard and fast like the song outside. Lindsey could see Angel on the edge of the bed watching them with a hand around his cock. He was in game face, and once they had settled into it he moved behind Spike and bit his wrist deeply. Angel slicked up his cock, grabbed Spike by the hips and thrust straight in.

“Jesus, Angel!” Spike stopped, forehead resting on Lindsey’s as he recovered.

The human could sympathise. He’d been having sex with Angel for months and it still hurt, no matter how much preparation was involved.

“You absolute bastard.”

“Come on William, you always loved it that way.”

“God! It’s been awhile, alright?”

The three of them stayed perfectly still, breathing heavily – even the vamps – while Spike got comfortable.

 

Lindsey couldn’t stand it, the hard cock inside him just an inch away from where he needed it. His own dick felt like it was about to explode. The fact that Spike was still hard certainly implied he didn’t mind the pain that much, and soon enough he was tentatively moving again. Angel flicked his hips and the blond moaned heavily. Lindsey could make out glowing yellow eyes in the black and the hungry looks were making him feel like he couldn’t breathe, like he’d lose control any second. As Angel thrust into Spike, it drove the smaller vamp further and further into Lindsey, their bodies crushed together in a sticky, gyrating mess. Lindsey clutched at the headboard and found no purchase, dragging his nails instead down Spike’s arms. Angel was grunting quietly as he almost flattened Spike with his weight, driving into him faster and faster. There was no hope of Lindsey getting a hand on his own dick, not with Spike pressed to him so close, but there was enough friction against the vampire’s stomach that it didn’t matter. Lindsey was almost there now, toes curling almost painfully as he spread his legs wider and turned his head.

Spike didn’t need a second invitation. He swooped down and sunk his teeth into the Southerner’s neck, drinking deeply for a moment before pulling back with a growl. Lindsey came the second he felt Spike’s seed inside him, fingers cramping up as he tensed. His climax faded and he relaxed, aware that Angel was still moving over a well-fucked-looking Spike. The blond was basically stuck to Lindsey by his own spunk, eyes drooping  as the brunette pounded into him hard enough to shake the bed. Angel’s fangs flashed and he clamped down on Spike’s shoulder, coming with a roar. Lindsey was surprised to find he could feel Spike coming again, the bite pushing him past the bounds of normal human stamina. He stared up at Spike in awe at the utter satisfaction on the other man’s face as Angel drank from him. He looked more beautiful and serene in that moment than Lindsey had ever seen him. Angel drew back with a chin covered in blood and licked his lips.

“There ya go, Willie. The Irish prevail.”

“Fuck you, bog-bottom.”

Angel barked a laugh and pulled out, making Spike groan. He followed suit and Lindsey realised how sore he really was. He hadn’t noticed all the weight before but they’d given him a pounding, and he was going to ache tomorrow. They flopped together into one pile, half-asleep already.

“Christ!” Spike reached down and felt around for his jacket, “I needed that.”

He grabbed his cigarettes and lighter from his duster and put one in his mouth.

“Spike, no smoking inside.”

“What are you so worried about? Not like you’ll get lung cancer.”

“But I have to live with the smell!”

“Oh sod off.”

Lindsey just lay completely still, the delicious warmth in his muscles making him melt into the mattress. He could hear Angel and Spike still bickering about the cigarette but their voices seemed further and further away, until he couldn’t hear anything anymore.

*****

He woke up between two corpses – at least, that’s what it looked like. Spike and Angel were both totally unconscious, not even stirring as he shuffled down the bed. He looked them over, both pale torsos covered in bites that had gone deep enough to break the skin. They looked like the victims of some horrific murder. _Bet they’ll have great hangovers_. The idea of tetchy vamps made him frown, and he decided to see if Angel had any blood or coffee for when they eventually woke up. He tugged his underwear on and headed to the kitchen. It wasn’t well stocked, just enough for Lindsey and any other human guests to snack on, but there was a whole section of the fridge just for blood and he found some instant coffee that would taste like shit but do the trick.

After that Lindsey wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. The guy that usually gave him instructions was face down in a pillow, and he didn’t feel like going downstairs yet anyway. He showered, taking his time as he washed away the sweat from last night and examined himself. Not too much damage all things considered. His muscles were tender, but that was to be expected. He had a bruise here and there but nothing too obvious, apart from the bites covering him almost head to toe. Lindsey shook his head at his reflection. _Nice job, guys. Now I’m gonna hear about it from the rest of the gang for a week_. He threw on his pants and stole a shirt from Angel’s drawers before crashing in front of the TV. But Lindsey must have been more tired than he felt, because halfway into the second episode of _Wheel of Fortune_ he was fast asleep.

 

Noises in the kitchen woke him. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes.

“Angel?”

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he sat up, “How you feelin’?”

The vampire’s pitiful look made him stifle a grin. He stood behind the counter in a loosely-tied robe, hair mussed, looking paler than ever if that was even possible.

“Alright, how ‘bout you go wash up, start to feel halfway decent again, and I’ll fix you something for that hangover.”

“You’re a saint.” The vamp’s eyelids fluttered close for a moment before he shuffled back into the bedroom.

Lindsey got up with a smirk and started heating some blood. He pulled out two mugs and put the kettle on, sitting on the counter while he waited. Angel’s bedroom door flew open and Spike stomped into the kitchen in nothing but his jeans, head in his hands.

“Afternoon Spike.”

“Oh God. Don’t make such a racket.”

“Blood’s warming and there’ll be coffee soon.”

“Sod that.” Spike scoffed, rummaging through Angel’s cupboards until he found an almost empty bottle of rum.

The timer went off and he opened the microwave, pouring blood straight from the bag into the bottle.

“Hair of the dog, MacDonald. That’s the cure for what ails ya.”

Lindsey didn’t say a word as Spike drained the strange mixture, dumped the empty blood bag and bottle on the counter and went back into the bedroom. With a sigh he just grabbed another from the fridge and stuck it in the microwave. By the time it was done, the water had boiled and he filled one mug with blood and the other with coffee.

“Smells good.”

“Which one?”

Angel came over in his towel and drained the blood. “Both.”

“Spike had his own remedy.” Lindsey nodded towards the rum.

“He’s like that.” Angel picked up the coffee with a grimace, letting the cup warm his hands.

“So...last night...is that something you guys do a lot?”

Angel glanced over but Lindsey’s eyes were firmly on the counter.

“It happens occasionally. Every few years or so.”

“So it’ll happen again?”

“Probably,” Angel frowned, “Why? Was it weird for you?”

“No, no nothing like that. I mean the sex was great, Spike’s just not my type.”

“And you were worried I wanted to make it a permanent thing.”

He nodded.

Angel set down the mug and took Lindsey’s hand. “Hey, you and me are friends right? And I’d never expect you to do something you weren’t comfortable with.”

“Okay. Just wanted to know where we stand.”

“Same as before. We hang out, sometimes we fuck, that’s all. No Spike.”

Lindsey’s face suddenly took on an expression that was too innocent. “Well, let’s not be hasty.”

“Occasional Spike then?” Angel hid a smile.

“Occasional. I think I’d like that.”

A muffled voice shouted from the bedroom. “Too bloody right!”


End file.
